Over the years, I have managed to kill off at least half a dozen perfectly innocent basil plants.
1. The first one died because I planted it in the garden.
A friend with green fingers told me that in cold, icy Britain that is tantamount to murder as even a light frost will kill off a basil plant.
So I bought a replacement and a nice pot and put it on my kitchen window sill.
2. The second one died because I forgot to water it.
Another gardening friend told me that basil plants need watering regularly.
3. The third one died because I overwatered it.
I decided to water the 4th just once a fortnight, regardless of whether it looked ‘a bit droopy’ or ‘absolutely fine’.
4. The fourth one died because I didn’t water it enough.
I decided to water the 5th once a week, regardless of what state it was in.
5. The fifth one died - need I explain?
I decided to water the 6th one when it clearly looked ‘in need of watering’.
6. The sixth one died because I had no idea what the difference is between ‘in need of water’ and ‘on its last legs’.
I didn’t buy a 7th.
I decided that I was utterly useless at growing plants, gave myself a good clip round the ear, and gave up.
Salvation was just around the corner
Then one day, I was saved from my own stupidity.
I called on a friend who lives, eats and breathes gardening. Her garden is so beautiful; she’s always digging this, pruning that, planting the other. If she doesn’t know the name of a plant or what to do with it, she gets out every gardening book known to man and researches until she’s found the experts’ answer to her problem. Consequently, her plants flourish because she knows just how to treat them.
This was the friend who had told me to grow my basil plant indoors and, true to her word, on her kitchen window sill was the most gorgeous, lush green basil plant I’d ever seen.
As she put the kettle on and while telling me about her latest purchase of a fabulous new winter coat, she began to water the basil plant. I watched transfixed as she gently grasped the stem of the plant, lifted it completely out of its pot, put a little water in the bottom and replaced the plant.
“So you don’t water basil from the top?” I asked, feeling a right uneducated banana whilst I said it.
“Oh no,” she said. “You need to feed it from its roots. Let the plant pull what water it needs up from the bottom of the pot and, in an hour or so, empty out what it hasn’t used.”
One tiny, simple tip solved my huge, unsolveable problem
All my plants died purely and simply because I didn’t take the time to find out how to water a basil plant properly. If I’d bothered to ask someone who really knew that, ‘Watering from the top kills it. Watering from the bottom makes it flourish,’ none of those poor innocents need have died.
I should be flogged from here to the moon.
Needless to say, my 7th basil plant is the healthiest I’ve ever had. We’ve been together for nearly 3 months now and he’s lush, green, happy and healthy. Last night his succulent, fragrant leaves helped transform our pasta supper dish into something quite heavenly and I’m salivating already at the thought of tomorrow’s lunch of mozzarella cheese and sliced beef tomatoes garnished with basil leaves - all from my very own, properly-watered plant!
And all I had to do was consult an expert
I’d have saved lots and lots of time, money, energy and guilt.
Funny but…
… this sounds a bit like what happened when I had my colours ‘done’ by an expert all those hundreds of years ago….
He wanted me to wear the colours HE liked - olive green, autumn gold chocolate brown - colours in which a true Autumn would most probably look stunning but both of which make me look absolutely ghastly and in severe need of immediate resuscitation! 
