Spring sprouts
Growing up, one of the first signs of spring was always the arrival of our seed catalogs. We’d have snow on the ground, but summer in our daydreams as we covered our fingers in newsprint, thumbing the pages, planning the garden. I didn’t realize how much I missed that until today, when I wandered through the cozy little garden section of our local hardware store. It’s an old-fashioned kinda place, as much a seed store as a hardware store. Wandering the aisles of seed packets made me miss the old excitement of garden planning.
Of course, the whole reason I was there was because I was garden planning. Sort of. Kinda. This winter a lot of factors came together and my housemate and I found ourselves trying to eat more vegetables, more local vegetables, and more organic vegetables. But winter being winter, our options were a bit limited. By some miracle our little indoor cherry tomato plant kept producing all season, but one or two wee tomatoes a week didn’t sate us, and a steadier supply meant buying tomatoes from Mexico or California. Ditto for peppers, and even organic spinach. I think we’ve done pretty well, making some compromises, some dietary changes. But still…I got to dreaming. What if we could have a small, steady supply of fresh greens next winter? Tomatoes might be too much to hope for…but spinach? Basil? Salad greens?
Yeah, I started dreaming of gardening without a garden. Condo gardening. Hydroponics.
I think I’m crazy. It’s probably just a bad case of spring fever. And yet…
The “and yet” was what lured me into the garden area earlier today. I figured I’d try a very small scale experiment, the absolute easiest and cheapest way of dipping my toes in the water — sprouting. So I picked up some mung beans and broccoli seeds (and learned from the helpful Garden Guy to look for “untreated” seeds when sprouting). These promptly went into one premade sprouter (I’ll take a picture later) and one homemade sprouter (like this, but using cheesecloth and an elastic band instead of a premade mesh strainer). In three days I should have sprouts, a veritable garden in a bottle. 
I know I have at least 72 hours to wait, but I’ve turned into a five year old. I swear I’ve poked at the sprouts every hour. Sprouted yet? Now? Now? Now? Now?…
