maybe it’s because I didn’t buy the clogs

The day before yesterday I spent a few hours getting my little garden in shape. What with the facts that we rent here and that I’m afraid of large gardening equipment, I’m doing it all in containers. This limits the sorts of veggies I can grow, but happily fall and winter vegetables are pretty much my favorite kind and I can grow the ones I like best in containers (except for squash – stupid, big-ass squash). I’ve planted one pot with carrots and turnips and several pots with bok choy and mustard greens. I’m also attempting to start an okra plant and put a couple of seeds in small pots as a way to get it going. Actually, all of these are being started from seed which is a surprisingly stressful prospect. I’m working from McGee & Stuckey’s Bountiful Container, an incredibly accessible and well-written book all about container gardening edible things (including flowers, not that I went there in this round).
Aren’t they cute? They are in the book, too, with lots of little asides and other delightful things. The thing is that their cuteness may have pulled me into a rather stressful period of waiting. When discussing whether to work from seeds or transplants purchased from professionals, they say that you should consider seeds if “You don’t want to miss the fun of witnessing a very dependable, very accessible miracle.” I mean really. How the hell am I supposed to buy transplants after that? It’s like bogarting someone else’s miracle or something.

So two days ago (Saturday) I sowed my seeds and got my hands dirty and have been watering regularly since . . . and so far, nothing. Nada. No miracle. Before I planted, it didn’t occur to me to investigate how long before little green shoots would start popping up. At some gut level, I actually expected to see them by the end of Saturday – ten hours after I planted them. When I investigated and found that some seeds can take over a week to germinate, I got a bit sad. Which is ridiculous. When did I become so impatient? But then I’m like this with all of my “learning and practicing the skills of my grandmothers” ventures. When I leave my bread to rise I have to make myself very busy and scarce so I’m not peaking at it all the time. When I roast veggies in the oven I’m stalking and opening the oven door and messing with the temperature because I can’t wait for the tastiness. It would seem that I’m learning (or perhaps will eventually learn) patience along with all this baking, cooking, and gardening.

But now we’re at two days and I’m actually starting to get nervous. What if it’s colder at night than I thought it was? What if I’m overwatering? What if I planted the seeds too deep and they won’t be able to make it through all that dirt? Really this is all ridiculous. Every first grader manages to grow a bean plant in a paper towel and a plastic cup.

When (not if!) the sprouts appear, I’ll be sure to post them here. If the sprouts never appear, I will weep and destroy my garden with the fury of a adherent denied their miracle.

updated
Not twenty minutes after I posted this, my silly ass was on my back porch, peering at the pots while holding a candle (apparently I don’t know where we keep the flashlights).