The big bell pepper fruit has changed its skin, green to red. Very enjoyable to watch, but I was right in my hesitance to accept it as hale and healthy. I nudged it while getting a photo, and it fell right off the branch, allowing me to see the other side, rotting through and not something I’d consider eating. So I left it in the dirt, either for the squirrels to eat, or to see if it’ll plant itself.

After providing some much-needed hydration, I’m seeing some new growth from the desolated Jacobs Ladder, like a phoenix rising from the ashes. I love this fern-esque plant.

Speaking of ferns, I completely forgot that I had one. I have not been watering him for probably well over a month. And somehow, he’s still alive. Not much better than he looked when I first got him, appearing at the edge of death’s door. But persistently not dead yet. Finally gave him a drink, and hey, we’ll see.

The last of Ceasar’s direct in-tact descendants has perished. Just flopped over, wilting his way into the afterlife. I could see the dreaded translucence all the way up both leaves, so there was no point in trying to propagate cuttings from the ends. Just an inglorious burial.

Of the three basil cuttings that I took from the hydroponically-grown grocery basil plant: all dead, looking like leathered frog skin (or at least what I imagine leathered frog skin would look like). Not sure if the problem was the hydroponics (spoiler: I’ve heard of this style of plant nursery with no soil, but I know very little of the mechanics), that particular plant, or maybe my late pruning, after the mother plant had started to wither. Regardless, considering all three went so severely so fast, and I’ve never had any other basil cutting go like that, I’ll assume that the fault did not lie with the propagation method. I suppose the sad buggers never stood a chance.