
But weak as basil is outside here in the PNW, it is simply amazing in a beer glass by the sink. Each time it looked like it had passed into that green jungle in the sky, simply providing it with water resurrected it completely, in all of its spicy glory. When Jane returned, she was blissfully unaware of my horticultural incompetence.
But I am smiling with relief. I was not on plant-sitting duty this weekend.
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