This is an unprecedented level of garden planning for me. I am of the haphazard school generally because I would never start gardening if I had to try for optimum results by reading extensively, planning with calendars and almanacs, and mincing banana peels for compost. I am lazy. I can absorb only so many new ideas at a time. This year’s new idea is starting seeds in pots.
If all goes according to plan, I will have the right number of seedlings to plant in my garden beds, still sleeping under their straw mulch until the much-needed oak tree trimming is accomplished by my nice neighbor with the chainsaw. (I’m not saying he’s nice just because he has a chainsaw. He’s also my nice neighbor with the jet skis, but they’re not relevant in this context.)
The hardest part is waiting. There is nothing I can do to make the seeds germinate, to send up their little shoots and leaves. I hate to wait. It makes me feel like I’m not in charge. But I will have my revenge when I eat the little buggers later when they’ve turned into vegetables.