“The rosemary’s just taken off in the last couple of weeks!” I enthused to our landlady this morning. “Here, come take a look.”
I was eager to show off my fledgling gardening skills. Since Landlady actually planted it, ‘skills’ in this case refer to a) Not Killing It; b) the thriving of rosemary in my vicinity; and c) the identification/cataloguing thereof.
I need a lot of reassurance when it comes to gardening.
Landlady initially made all the right noises when presented with the burgeoning bush. “Wow!” she said. “It’s . . . very . . . that’s funny . . . I don’t remember . . . is that . . . are you sure that’s rosemary?”
“Oh yes, uh-huh, I believe so,” I asserted confidently. “I used it to make rosemary flatbread last night. Andrew said it was EVEN BETTER than my garlic flatbread.”
Um, so, well, it appears it might in fact have been, er.