Thursday, Mar 26, 2015

On Tuesday, I suddenly reached my limit of winter. The freezing rain seemed to mock the date on the calendar. Boys, let’s get our coats on! Time to bring home a little springtime.

After little brother was in bed, we set to work. Caleb spread the dirt while I tried and failed to keep it contained to the tabletop, helping me plant peas, cherry tomatoes, basil and a few impatiens. The lettuce must have gotten lost in the shuffle; a wandering 18-month-old was carrying it around for awhile, so anything could have happened to it.

We poked the seeds down, hidden beneath a layer of dirt and all but dead to a three-year-old eye. Fitting, just ahead of Easter, to explain in preschool fashion how Jesus’ body was broken for us, buried, and then raised to life. It’s a miracle that grows newer with each unfurled leaf and blossom of understanding.

A trip to the greenhouse is always good for the soul, but ours even revealed a baby fiddle leaf fig for $10 on clearance! I have no idea where I’ll put it, but it was begging to be adopted.

After a wardrobe change and nap time for Caleb, I also took advantage of the mess to repot my orchids in hopes that they'll bloom again some month year. The one on the left surprised me with its root volume, so it’s living in our colander until I find it a more permanent home.

There’s nothing like a little dirt under your fingernails to feel the hope of spring. Time to wait, water, and let the sun do its work. We have high hopes for our little seedlings, as long as they withstand our active household!

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