I woke up yesterday morning slightly anticipating a less than enjoyable day.
However, even the smallest, perhaps insignificant thing can turn a day around.
Yesterday, that thing was walking over to our bedroom window to water my little starter pots of strawberries and poppies, and seeing these four fragile yet enthusiastic little sprouts!
You guys. I am the worst at growing things. Truly. The worst.
In college I was always trying to grow something--herbs, flowers, anything green really--but was never successful. One summer my old art professor asked if I would take care of his plants in the art studio while he was on vacation, and I'm pretty confident I brought them all close to the brink of death. Last summer, I was given an adorable strawberry plant and, despite my best efforts, it quickly withered away into a shriveled, brittle mess. A couple months ago, I decided to get a small house plant after reading that having a living plant in the home to nourish can be therapeutic. But again, in spite of my truest attempt to keep it alive, it too suffered a quick death.
And believe it or not, having your life-plant-that's-supposed-to-make-you-feel-better-about-not-being-pregnant die, is not, in fact, therapeutic!
With the threat of failure looming over my head, I stubbornly decided that once again I would try to grow something. Come hell or high water, this would be the year that I finally grow something!
So, you can imagine my delight when I looked in the pot and saw four wee sprouts greeting me with their delicate little leaves having popped up overnight! With this discovery, and the fact that I created a new gluten and dairy free soup recipe yesterday as well, I was feeling pretty successful, creative, and darn it--I felt proud of myself, for the first time in quite a while.
Let's just pray that I can keep this little guy going and end up with some beautiful poppies for the rest of spring!