My dad, paternal grandpar-ents, maternal grandpa-rents, and some of my late great-grandparents all have something in common: they all have (or, in the case of my great-grandparents, had) green thumbs. But I inherited my mom’s lack of a green thumb, though I’m trying to prevail by honing my gardening skills.

It’s been an uphill battle, though. I got off to a rocky start by buying in-ground soil for potted plants, though this was a simple fix. Then, I had to face the summer heat burning up plants outside, while the plants I tried to keep inside weren’t doing well, either.

I’ve managed to keep a crown of thorns and firestick succulent alive, and I shower them in love and tell them all my gossipy secrets (they say it’s great to speak to plants, after all). I’m still learning, and I’ve gotten some tips from friendly people online, but my green thumb is definitely a work in progress.