It’s been a tense week.
Last Sunday, I started my first set of seeds for this year’s garden: tomatoes, tomatillos, and peppers. We put them in dirt, kept them nice and warm and wet, and waited.
Nothing happened! For days! Nevermind that nothing was supposed to happen for days. Those seeds are certainly busy under the dirt, I told myself. Just because I can’t see them doesn’t mean that they aren’t busy germinating. But I fretted anyway, because there were no cues to tell me if I was doing it right.
I wanted to start from seeds, because while it’s more work, there are lots of benefits to it. You can choose from many, many more varieties, which is especially important for tomatoes, and for unusual growing conditions. You can avoid the diseases and bugs that sometimes come along with nursery plants. You also get the satisfaction of watching the whole process from start to finish – assuming they start at all.
The problem is that deep down inside, I don’t really believe that seed starting works. How can it? The tomato seeds we planted are tiny, so tiny they almost slipped through my fingers as I poured them from the packet. They look like tiny pebbles, or grains of sand. They bear no resemblance to a tomato. Rationally, it doesn’t seem possible that such a tiny thing could, with a little water and dirt, grow into a 5-ft tomato plant that will give you pounds upon pounds of fruit. If you met an extraterrestrial (or, sadly, some humans) who knew nothing about gardening, and showed them the seed and the full-grown plant, and told them that the seed would turn into the plant, they’d tell you that you were mad. Right?
A lot of gardening books talk about how great it is to garden with kids, so they can witness the “wonder of creation.” They always seem to put it in quotes, as if we adults all know it’s pretty ordinary stuff. I disagree. It’s pretty damn amazing, no matter who you are.
So I’ve got my seeds, and I’ve been caring for them for almost a week. I got the whole setup: they’re in a warm closet, sitting in egg cartons on a tray over a heat mat. (I’m not sure if I can recommend the egg carton method – it seems to dry out the soil pretty quickly.) I’ve got a mister full of water, and another for fertilizer once the seedlings emerge. I’ve got a big shelf with a grow light in the basement, ready to go.
And there’s still lots of waiting.
But this morning, when I went to water them, I got my first surprise: two tiny white tendrils creeping up from one of the compartments. Two just-born tomatillo plants!
Magic.
So maybe this will work, after all.