A sad story of a raspberry bush

Can I stress the importance of drainage holes in your containers AGAIN??

This is one lesson I've learned in a very painful way, as I bet you can imagine looking at the sorry state of my raspberry bush these days.  Just to remind you - THIS is how it used to look like: 

The saddest bit is the fact, that it had already formed clusters of buds before it died.  I had already imagined my plentiful harvest, and then - boom.  The plant is gone.

It may not be so deadly in smaller containers, I'm not sure, but lack of drainage holes in a bucket proved to be deadly.  After a few big rains, I had a tiny lake under the bush: 

And this is AFTER the excess water has been poured out.

At the beginning, the plant seemed to survive it fine.  I hoped the moisture would simply evaporate and no harm done.  I even brought it indoors to make sure she doesn't get any more wet stuff.

But for some reason the soil didn't want to dry up.  It stayed moist for weeks, becoming sticky and sort of compacted as well.  I guess the roots must have rotten slowly in this period and eventually the bush died. 

I still have a tiny sparkle of hope that it will grow back, but if I'm to be realistic...  Well.  No home grown raspberries for me.

So do make sure your containers have drainage holes, OK?  Promise?

The greatest plant killer...

...is WATER!!!!!!!!!!!!

Believe me or not, it spreads destruction in the garden like nothing else.  It's an official number one on The Most Wanted Plant Killers list.  And it's all the more deadly for being so inconspicuous.

The scenario is simple.  Your tiny seeds have finally turned into tiny plants.  You think the deserve some nourishment for the effort.  You water them.  Completely forgetting that at this delicate stage a single drop of falling water is enough to break and kill them.

I must have lost tens of plants in this way.

Also, finding balance between enough and too much water proves pretty tricky.

I tend to overwater them.

Some plants, especially onions and thyme pay me back in a cruel way.

They sprout.  I'm jumping sky high.  They decide they don't really like it here and die. 
How can a gardener watch this and not be pissed off?

I swear, sometimes I think that plants have very sharp sense of humour.