Onions, celery, broccoli, sweet alyssum growing here. Waiting on the peppers & hollyhocks to sprout.
It doesn’t matter how many years I have started seeds indoors in the late weeks of winter. Every single year I stare at the soil, check on them multiple times a day to see if they have sprouted. And then, once they have, I check on them several times a day to see if I can see their growth, to make sure those that are uncovered have moist enough soil, to see what cells have yet to sprout.
It’s so hard not to feel the awe at watching their growth. And to feel a little satisfied that I had a small part in that miracle. Of course my enthusiasm hasn’t been lost on my kiddos. They, too, will go over and check on the seedlings periodically throughout their day. They want to help water them, examine what has grown, what hasn’t, what may have been stolen out of its dirt by a cat… It’s good. As Heather recently wrote about her kids and photography, I feel for mine and the garden.
I’ve also recently pulled out a project I started in (cough, cough) April 2009. I’ve only ever made myself one pair of socks (I think I’ve mentioned this on here before) though I’ve knit many pairs for other people. This is the second pair I’m knitting for myself:
Well, it will be once they’re done! I have a goal of finishing the first one before the 1-year mark of starting them, which was April 2 of last year (thank you, Ravelry!). Just like the seedlings, I find delight in watching this sock grow row by row. The color reminds me of the new growth of spring (thus I named them “New Shoots Livia” last year!). It feels right that I should pick the sock up again at this time of the year and work on it anew.
In what are you finding growing delight as the seasons meld and change?