Poor Freddy.

I have hurt Stuart's feelings.

He bought me a lovely present for Valentine's Day last year.  Sure, it wasn't your average Valentine's Day present...but for me, it was perfect. 

He knows how much I love God's natural air filters.  Plants!  I like to keep one in each room to help filter the gunk out of the air - so he bought me Freddy.  Freddy the Ficus.

Here is Freddy:

You will notice that Freddy is dead.

I'm a horrible person.  I have killed my present.  My little friend who was helping me breath fresh air.  A wonderful species.

The worst part is I garden.  I love plants.  And I was a florist for SEVEN YEARS.  Girl should know how to care for the little punks.  This is why I only keep tough, hardy plants in the house (IE: my cactus that I have named, "Los Amigos") and a bunch of these guys:

I spent years making things like this:

And this:

And this:

And this:

All with LIVE flowers and plants.  I knew I had to water them, and care for them - each one had it's own specific needs and I knew how to fulfill those needs.  I was keenly aware of their temperature and water level and light desires and companion plants. In fact, people used to actually pay me to take care of their plants.  The irony. 

I'm sorry Freddy.  Homesteaders have to be able to grow things - I have failed.

Poor Freddy.