Tiny signs of life

After carefully tending the poorly bay tree, I was encouraged and slightly hysterical to discover a new sprig of tiny green leaves on a branch. I may have even cheered!

I had repotted the poor thing, fed it, watered it and spent each evening carefully picking up the fallen leaves whilst talking to it like a lunatic and rubbing its crisp, brown, burned-looking leaves as I was convinced it had been lonely.

The upstairs neighbours are probably laughing at my efforts as they spotted me cycling home with a large bag of soil balanced precariously on my handlebars.

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