Seeds

There they are.  Three hundred and sixty of them.  Seeds.  The eager ones that you can see are broccoli, cucumbers and cabbage.  You can't see them, but some tomatoes have sprouted, too.  And the rest need a little time, along with sun, water, heating pads, and a greenhouse.  In the picture, they are enjoying the April sun, but at night, they get tucked into their covered beds in the greenhouse, electric blankets beneath them.  Best part of my day is when I go out in the morning to unplug the heating pads and see who has decided to sprout!

So what's in there?  Ready?  Broccoli, cabbage, Swiss chard, cucumbers, eggplant, kale, several kinds of peppers, butternut squash, crookneck squash, zucchini, yellow squash, about six different kinds of tomatoes, basil, parsley, rosemary, scallions, sunflowers.  Already in the ground?  Snow peas, snap peas, carrots, beets, red onions, yellow onions, red potatoes, white potatoes, blue potatoes.  Returning perennials?  Asparagus, blueberries, strawberries, thyme, mint, oregano.  Annuals that aren't supposed to return, but do?  Sage and parsley.  Waiting to direct sow at the end of the month?  Arugula, spinach, several lettuces, cilantro.  And later, after the last frost?  Pole beans and nasturtium. 

And that's my garden.  Oh, and shallots.  I guess I have to buy them, as I could not find any seeds or sets.

Seeds.  They are little miracles.  Seriously.  So tiny, I can barely see them, but they will grow into the food I will live on all summer and into the fall and winter.  The reality of this stops me dead in my tracks and can bring me to my knees.  How is it even possible that something the size of a flea can end up producing an abundance of food?

And it begs the question:  why are we not teaching kids in school how to garden?  I mean, if a child is fortunate enough to have parents who garden (I wasn't), there is a good chance he/she will continue the tradition.  But all those kids who have no idea where their food comes from?  Can't we find room in the over-tested curriculum to introduce them to this life-sustaining skill?

I am, by my own admission, a half-assed gardener.  Pete was my gardener.  When he died, I had a choice:  I could let the garden beds go to seed, or I could figure out how to garden.  I chose the latter.  And I have been in love with gardening ever since.  Today, I fell in love with seeds all over again.