Here I am with at least a hundred packets of seeds, product of a couple months of flipping through catalogs and dreaming of the superb garden I’ll have by August.  Ah, but the garden itself is not much more than a tiny potential waiting to put down roots and a few leaves.  Perhaps a bit more, since it does have a physical space.  Still, it has a lot of growing to do.

Back to the seeds.  Small, sometimes almost invisible, dry, rather boring, and capable of becoming so much.  And, with me, subject to so many disasters.  In the past, I’ve forgotten to water them, waited too long to transplant, dumped them into inferior soil and even neglected to plant them at all.  (Guilt, guilt, guilt…)  Again and again, I’ve promised myself to ignore all seeds except those I can scatter in November and forget.  Only the ones who can survive on with total neglect on my part.

But those seed catalogs!  They are as tempting as a display case in a bakery or the main floor of REI.  Everywhere I look there are things I want.  So here I am, trying again, taking this spring as a time of reincarnation, one more chance to get it right.  And may nature forgive me for past sins!

Actually, plants seem to be quite forgiving, always ready to try again.  And, though I still find it hard to believe, I have cream-colored foxglove seedlings, apricot California poppies and multi-colored yarrows already up and growing.  And this time, this time, I’m going to get this whole seed-starting thing right….