I once owned a gorgeous, beautifully designed novelty plant in a can. The instructions told me to add water to the odd mix of perlite and seeds and from that I would be able to grow lavender. It's just that easy. It just never germinated. But that wasn't my first plant. My first plant was back when I was a spotty teenager.
I really, desperately wanted my own herb garden but with no space for an inexperienced hands in our garden I was given a windowsill growing kit. It had compost, a tray with four sections, more seeds than strictly necessary and sparse instructions.
I can't even remember what all the seeds were. One was chives. I remember because it was disappointing. Growing chives from seed is painfully boring. I've done it a couple of times and you can pretty much bet you aren't going to get a harvest in your first year. Ultimately worth it for an adult, not so much when you are still getting told off for scuffing your school shoes.
|'sokay chives, I love you now|
I never did get to figure out how to eat them. Probably for the best. They were put out of their misery when I tried to close my blinds one night. The tray knocked from the windowsill, all signs of life extinguished, compost in my carpet, me about to be yelled at.
As you can see I was never cut out to be a gardener.
[This post was written as a response to the 1st prompt of Gayla Trail's Grow Write Guild. Check it out.]