I Know How Those Little Sprouts Feel
In this space we have already discussed my peculiar lack of patience, which has once more manifested itself in my Little Family Farmer Growth Box and Government Subsidy Attractor. I planted the seeds at the end of March, long before I should have, and now, in the first full week of April, I'm being overwhelmed by Christmas Lima Bean plants and Cucumbers (two varieties) and something else of a presently unknown genus. You see, there was a problem during the planting phase and my best laid plans (I had it all mapped out on my Little Family Farmer Garden Plot and Treasure Map) got sort of fershimmered when the seeds started to go wherever they damn well pleased.
After all, when you've got my hereditary family shake, detail work can be a bitch. That's why I had to give up brain surgery. (If only I had done it before Mr. Rosenschmutz. He wouldn't be tortured today by a wonky left little finger and the ability to pick up WGN out of Chicago when he turns to the Northeast.)
Anyway, the seeds have taken off for the most part.
The Mystery Veg of Row Three
Basically, I know where two things are: the tomatoes are at one end, the Socorro chiles are at the other. Those will go in the garden known as Nick. Nora, the new garden, will get everything else. Along with the beans, fennel, squash, garlic, lettuce, spinach and Lord knows what else I threw in there. The plotting maps look like a relief map of Uruguay or one of the English essays I turned into Miss Bourgoin in tenth grade, all red lines and question marks.
Aren't You Glad I'm Not in Charge of Something Important?
I'm sure that in the next 14-15 years, I will get this plotting stuff down pat, but I have never been known for my attention to detail, or, for my ability to do ANYTHING right the first time. (Do it. Read Instructions. Take apart. Redo.)
I Think These are Tomatoes, Because They're on the Right End of the Box. I Think.
Honestly, I do think I can figure out most of these, even though the starter trays have been turned around on the kitchen table 3 to 6 to 25 times to take proper advantage of the sunshine, to give Mr. Bitterman something to do between simian shows on Animal Planet and to make room for lunch. A few of these will have to be replanted in the next few days, once again muddying the waters as to exactly what they might be. They're simply getting too big for their plastic britches.
Thank God for the Christmas Limas. Their distinctive seeds are at least giving me a point of reference. And God help the Socorro chiles. They seem to be slow germinators.
Come on, Kids! Daddy Needs a New Source for Socorros!
Sometimes I feel like Lisa Douglas from "Green Acres," as the little plants "shoost up" toward the sun and the sky. (I can't remember where I left my keys or why I walked into the kitchen, but I can remember lines from 60's sitcoms like nobody's business!!)
What's Great: Even In MY Clumsy Hands, Life Does Find a Way!
I do enjoy this little adventure, however.
Somehow, it gives me a greater appreciation of life.
It certainly does find a way. No matter how I try to interfere.