The closest I’ve ever been to basil is my supply of pesto. I’m not exactly a gardener, so to say.

But recently I’ve managed to grow a whole herd of basil into maturity. Two weeks ago my colleague decided to plant some basil-seed in a tray of peat. Shortly after that, she had to do fieldwork for some time, so she left me at the office with the task of caring for her plants. For weeks now I’ve been monitoring the humidity of the peat, I’ve lovingly watered the budding creatures and turned the tray to prevent the basil growing into just one direction (the sun that is).

From a capitalist point of view it’s my colleague who owns the basil. She paid for the peat, the tray and the seed, so it’s hers. From a Marxist point of view however the basil is mine, since I’m the one using the means of production.

But that’s really an unimportant question. It’ll end up in our bellies as pesto anyway. What’s more important is the wonder about these tiny green shoots growing into adult basils. It’s the wonder that you’d expect to happen, but that doesn’t. Until today, when I watered the plants and suddenly noticed they really smell like basil!

I wonder when they’re going to catch their first flies. Although recently I haven’t noticed any flies at work, so maybe they’re doing their job already?


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