There's More Than One Way to Skin a Cat (or plant a flower)

Last night, after dinner, Nora Jane and I got down and dirty.  Since it's still too cold to plant my zinnia seeds directly outside, we turned our kitchen and dining room into a pseudo-potting shed.  All the while trying our best NOT to look out the window at our actual potting shed. (It was cold out there too) Thus, after convincing Dave, the builder of said shed, that this was, in fact, the right place to perform this task, we set out our seed tray, our bag of dirt (seed starter for you serious gardeners) our big bag of seeds, and got to work.  

I thought it would be fun if we divided the work.  I'm weird that way.  So, since my experience has taught me that letting your kids play with dirt in the house can get pretty messy, I filled the tray with the seed starter and decided it would be Nora's job to create all of the little holes for the seeds to be placed into.  And when her time came, she was ready and excited for the task.  

I quickly demonstrated how to do this.  Not that this is a very difficult task, but a reminder is always good. (Okay, I wanted to show her how to do it my way.) I then handed over the chopstick, stepped back and watched in horror as she plunged that stick in and out of my neat, brown dirt, like a vampire slayer in the throes of murder, with nary a thought to the mess she was making all over my table.  

I stepped forward and gently reminded her that this is a process to be savored, not rushed.  It's not about speed, or efficiency, but precision.  A job to be handled with care.  Because we love our seeds and we want to do everything we can to give them a good start in the world.  (Yes, I know I get carried away)

But Nora didn't care about any of that.  She wasn't feeling the love.  She was antsy "to get it done" and continued to plow her way through the tray. When she reached her goal, she plucked that chopstick out of the last cup, raised it high into the air, like a prized trophy,  and declared, "done--seventy-two holes in less than a minute!"  Apparently, she was timing herself as well.  

As she smiled up at me, full of pride and big front teeth, I tried to mask my shock.  Why would she want to rush through something I could sit and do for hours?   Is she just that impatient?  Does she have something better to do on a Monday night?

I realized that we definitely have two very different gardening methods.  But I don't think that means either one of us enjoys it any more than the other.  Nora's smile clearly showed me that she loved each and every one of those sixty seconds.  Maybe it just means that we like different parts of the job more.   Nora certainly seems to have an affinity for digging holes.

The other day, when I was working in the yard, she asked if she could use a shovel.  I just grunted, or smiled, and kept on working.  The next thing I knew, she'd dug a hole, behind the bird bath, deep enough to get her knees down into!  When I asked her what the hole was for, she replied with a shrug, "I don't know.  I just wanted to dig one."

I, too, enjoy digging a good hole, when the need arises.  But, unlike Nora, I take care.  I don't fling the dirt all over the place.  One could argue that I don't fully embrace the act of digging like she does.  And, perhaps, one would be right.  But, in the end, we both wind up with holes that need filling and that's really all that matters.

So I looked back down at my dirt-covered table and admired all seventy-two of Nora's holes.  I grabbed that dirty stick from her, high-fived her little, dirt-covered hand and said, "thanks. Good job kid!"  And then she was done.  She turned away, returned to the computer to finish working on her story.  I sighed, relieved that I was left to finish the job on my own, at my leisure.  Which is exactly what I did.  

With care I dropped a seed into each one of those roughly made holes, gently tapped them closed, and gave them a final tap for good luck.  When they were all tucked in, I covered them with their dome and bet Nora how many days until they sprouted.  She said twenty.  But then quickly changed it to thirteen.  

Day 1

As I  cleaned up the dirt Nora Jane flung all over the table, I picked up the seed bag and discovered a big hand full of seeds still hiding out in the bottom.   I was so happy to see these guys, because that meant my job was not done.  

So this morning I returned to the nursery and bought an additional seed tray, so I can start the whole process all over again.  And since I don't have enough zinnia seeds to fill the entire tray, I might just move on to my lettuces.  I better get busy though.  I want to have them all planted before Nora Jane gets home from school.

Keep on keeping on-

S-