Spring planting in Idaho

The calendar says it's spring. Look out the window, however, and you see something completely different. There is no blue sky, sunshine, or chirping birds. Just gray skies, howling wind and intermittent snow and rain. As I sat on my front porch last night, wrapped in a down blanket, my roaring propane fire dancing at my feet, I decided I would not be thwarted by Mother Nature's attempts to convince me it was not spring after all. I hopped in my car, drove to Home Depot (because they have everything) and picked up a Jiffy plant starting kit. That's right Mrs. Nature, there are many ways to skin a cat (not that I would really skin a cat.....what a morbid turn of phrase anyway) and planting seeds in little containers of dirt and keeping them inside my house until you finally give in is one of them. This morning, after having my nails beautifully manicured, I came home and retrieved my little Jiffy garden from its spot on top of the freezer in the garage and carried it in the house. I excitedly tore open the package and carefully read the instructions which informed me that I would need about 10 1/2 cups of warm water to fully hydrate the hard little disks of dirt waiting in the perfectly arranged little plastic grid. It was amazing to put in the water and watch those flat little hockey pucks drink up the water and transform into perfect little pods of rich brown dirt just waiting for me to add my seeds. Early this month I had purchased what the package claimed, was everything I would need for the perfect vegetable/salsa garden. I opened my all inclusive package and found the little paper packages of seeds. Now I could feel my heart rate increase just a little and the saliva started to flow in my mouth as I looked at the beautiful pictures of tomatoes, peppers, squash, eggplant, and herbs on those packages. My mind wandered to some place in what I hoped was the near future where I would look out my back window and see healthy green plants, drooping with fresh vegetables. I again perused the planting instructions for my little Jiffy garden and felt my breath catch in my throat as I read, "carefully pull the netting back on each pod and loosen and level the soil on top." Excuse me? I am supposed to actually touch the dirt? Wait, I just had my nails done. Can't I just pour the seeds on top and call it good? Apparently not, so I started the search for my little cloth gardening gloves. I had purchased them a couple of years ago when I believed that growing a garden in Idaho was a real possibility and now the little gloves had been resigned to someplace where all the things associated with my great ideas gone bad were. After some searching, I finally found my little gloves and slipped them on. Now I was ready to handle the little pods. Using a yellow plastic fork from the kitchen drawer I loosened that soil like a real farmer and then raked it smooth with the yellow fork. Halfway through the pack of 72 pods, I discovered something about myself. I am not a patient person. Each pod had to be handled carefully and slowly or the dirt would go flying out of the little planting pod and be useless. I took a deep breath and steeled myself against my own attention deficit issues and concentrated on farming my little garden. At last all the little pods were ready to receive their seeds. I opened the first packet of tomato seeds and looked inside. What was this? Where were the seeds? Wait, okay, if I get a magnifying glass and look really close I can actually see all 9 seeds the size of ground pepper. I read the planting instructions on the packet and it said to put 2 to 3 seeds in each pod and cover them with a little soil. I am not kidding when I say there were 9 tiny little specs of seed in this package. Who was the poor sucker that had to count and put 9 seeds in this envelope? Really, were they trying to save money, because how much could it cost to just take a pinch of seeds and drop them in the pack. What were they afraid of, that I might plant too many tomato seeds and they would get out of hand and overrun the neighborhood? I actually had to get a pair of tweezers in order to handle these precious little darlings. I carefully placed 3 seeds, one at a time, in a little pod of dirt and gently raked soil over it with my little yellow fork. After planting 3 pods, I placed the empty package at the side of the pods so I would know what they were when they didn't sprout. I breathed a deep sigh of satisfaction. Yes, I could have been a farmer. If I thought the tomato seeds were bad, I gasped out loud when I saw the onion seeds. Now I get why people wait and buy their plants already started. This seed planting thing was hard work! I determined not to get distracted from my project and I focused all my energy into carefully placing the tiny, sleeping plants into the rich soil until all the packages were empty (which isn't saying much considering the microscopic contents of each package) and each and every pod contained the potential for a living plant. Now the instructions said to replace the plastic dome on the garden. Okay, that part was easy. And then to place it in a warm place out of direct sunlight. Well, keeping it out of direct sunlight would be easy. About anyplace in the State of Idaho would qualify for that, but keeping my sleeping babies warm might be a little tougher. I looked around my house for the perfect spot and then as I saw Daisy sleeping peacefully I knew where it was. She was slumbering away on the bathroom floor in front of the heat vent. Nobody ever used that bathroom anyway, so sorry Daisy, but my precious seedlings just got you evicted from your favorite sleeping spot. I placed my little garden on the fluffy, blue bathroom rug in front of the cabinet heat vent and blew them a little kiss. Sleep well, my babies, someday soon the sun will shine and hopefully your little heads will be peaking out of the rich brown soil and be ready to drink it in, I know I am. Then I slipped off my pretty garden gloves and placed them back in their little cupboard, checked for stray dirt under my nails and took my place in my favorite recliner in front of my fireplace, a wicked grin on my face as I challenged Mother Nature to try to defeat me. We shall see.