Normally, this would be my baking area where I could knead bread dough or turn out an crust for quiche, but it is now the fine repository of my seedlings-gone-wild. They all started out in one of those little seedling kits I did an impulse buy on a few weeks ago. Bennie and I sowed the seeds during the Spring Break last week. I didn't expect to see any action for at least another week. To my surprise and amazement, seedlings began making their burgeoning appearance three days after they were sown. Then I knew I was in trouble. I started them too early. So, today, I purchased some soil for transplanting and gathered every available container I could find and moved the seedlings into less crowded conditions. There's two different kinds of lettuce and mesclun and two different kinds of tomatoes and Swiss chard and squashes and cukes (burpless, thank you) and broccoli and gourds. I decided the peas and pumpkins could be sown directly outside. I don't know where yet as landscaping is still in transition and I'd have to find places where the chickens and deer won't go, but in the ground they must go and soon.
I don't normally follow a whole lot of rules with regard to many things. Knitting, painting or spinning I fly by the seat of my pants and see what the results yield. Sometimes things turn out far more interesting than if I'd followed the rules. Other times the mistakes need to neatly disposed of in a quiet manner. However, I think plants are pretty smart and are willing to work with one and their shortcomings. Without much help from me, except sowing and ensuring they had enough water and light, the little buggers sprouted on their own. I've been reading plenty of seed starting info from books and the 'net la-di-dah-ing about how careful one needs to be with the tender shoots ~ they shouldn't be grasped by the stems, they need sterile soil, Beethoven should be played whilst transplanting ~ and I think it's a little loopy. Long, long ago, in this galaxy, in fact, seeds took care of themselves just fine. They endured dinosaurs and strange weather patterns and our early agricultural fumblings. I think they can handle Red Hot Chili Peppers while being transplanted. I'll see where this little experiment takes me in another week or so. They'll have to move out sometime.