Today, I had planned to finish cleaning and prepping my containers for the inevitable filling of soil, putting some old seed-starting materials into recycling, and starting a few more summer crops.
Well, plans just never go the way I’d like.
Instead, I spent most of my waking hours putting seeds into tiny envelopes. I didn’t mind doing any of this; in some ways, it’s quite cathartic for me to focus on something, develop an end-to-end process, and just get it done. On the other hand, my psychosis requires me to count every seed (except for basil; fuck counting basil), and each clear, plastic packet must receive the same number of seeds.
I could just be happy with “here’s some for you! and here’s some for you!” Nope. Has to be as even a count as possible, or, else, it’s just not fair.
What else I learned about “not being fair” is just running out of seeds, of some things. For instance, the Gretel Eggplant, I only had three extra seeds. I fight a compulsion to run out and buy more to fulfill people’s requests. I remind myself that this is about sharing and thinning down what I already have; many of these seeds aren’t good for another year.
I also fret about the seeds not being good, now, that I’m sending everyone duds. I can’t trust the seeds until I can see the little bastards sprout. I can store them as properly as possible, but, until their little tails start breaking out, they’re no longer viable, in my head.
Well, tonight, my brain is no longer viable. This is more of a journal entry to get some thoughts out of a cluttered brain. Sometimes, I just need that.