Someone once wrote about going to a plant sale and suffering the "insane anxiety of the plant maniac. It was 10 am on Friday, an hour after the gates had opened for a two-day sale. And I was worried: would anything be left?"
She apparently had 50 plants sitting at home waiting to be put in the ground, as one of her neighbours who saw her there reminded her. "So what? Who stops eating potato chips just because she feels full?" was her reply.
The plants I picked up recently at an exhibition cum sale have decided to put in roots with me and stay. Except for the impatiens. For three weeks she flourished and flowered. And then one night suddenly one of the branches wilted. Next morning, another. My first thought was "There should be a doctor I could call, shouldn't there?" It's some sort of bacteria is all I have managed to figure. So she's gone.
But last Sunday, the khet ki mooli were lovely.