I love Spring. The birds come back to the feeders on my deck, they poop all over the patio furniture, the squirrels drive my dogs nuts, and it is time to plant my herbs indoors in preparation for another fun game of “Do They Live or Do They Die”. My first four years of indoor herb and flower planting didn’t go so well. Year one consisted of five 72 pack cells and hundreds of packets of seeds. Let’s just say, I over did it, the watering became a pain in the butt and I gave up on them.

The dried up cells withered for weeks until they resembled clay with a faint green powder on the surface. I literally cremated them. Oh well…it was just seeds and soil…next year would be different. Years two and three were identical to year one. Our home became a seasonal plant morgue. It was then that my husband became frustrated with me and the multitude of dead flower and herb cells lying around in any room that had light. My gardening became a seasonal running joke. That was…until year four. Year four, started as all the others had.
The trip to the Home Depot, the endless milling over which seeds to kill this year, all the while my husband and kids knowing and snickering about the fate of each one of the poor seeds. I overdid it again and bought seven 72 count cell packs just to stick it to them. I attempted to grow Shasta Daisy, Coreopsis, Purple Cone Flower, Forget Me Nots, Columbine and Black Eyed Susan. The pre-planned funerals of lavender, mint, sage, flat leaf parsley and chives followed.
However, for reasons unknown, I read the backs of the packets, followed the directions carefully, I kept up with the watering and took gardening advice from my mom. “Miracle Grow once a week, I swear by it”. That was all she said and she was right. Everything flourished quickly out of control. Especially the only vegetable I have ever grown. My pride and glory were the tomatoes.

They were called Fourth of July tomatoes because they guaranteed ripe tomatoes by the 4th of July. What I neglected to mention was that I started my seedlings indoors on February 7th. What do those seed packets know anyhow? You are supposed to start most seeds indoors six to eight weeks before the last frost. Not four months early in the dead of winter. By April, the neighbors thought for sure I was growing illegal drugs. The tomato plants were enormous and I had at least 25 large pots of them.

The dining room became the green house, along with any other window with full sun. Even after several inquiries from neighbors and my dear sweet husband tactfully telling me I was insane, I continued to care for them relentlessly. It was simple and therapeutic. All it took was light, water, soil and seeds.

Oh, and patience. This was an area I needed work on and plants did the trick. I sang Happy Birthday to them as each seedling emerged, I swore at the ones that failed to show up but by the last frost, I had a total of five hundred survivors. There were several casualties from the sage army, at least ten tomato plants bit the dust, flat leaf parsley did suffer some losses however the Fourth of July tomatoes gave us fruit one day early. The experience was exhilarating.

I used the herbs endlessly throughout the summer for cold pasta salads, meats, compound butters and I began to season my own oils. I cut my herbs often, chop them finely and place them in a 4" ramekin on my island. They dry naturally and I keep them fresh by placing the glass top of a 22 ounce Yankee Candle over the ramekin. It is a perfect fit and great storage for my compound butters too. I just throw fresh or dried herbs in with a few sticks of butter, garlic, salt, pepper and lemon zest.

The simple combination turns any meal or side dish into something special and different. The flowers were transplanted into a pretty garden and it has already multiplied. The lavender I even used in a homemade Blueberry Lavender ice cream. Totally divine. As I type in my bed with my sweetheart of a husband listening to Air Supply on his ipod, I have lime basil, cilantro, flat leaf parsley and dill healthy and happy downstairs in a single 36 cell pack. In several others I am growing more Purple Cone Flowers, Columbine plus Chamomile. Gardening has slowed me down, simplified my life and keeps my hands busy in the dead of winter.
No matter what your level, give it a shot. Yes, I had three very ugly years of funeral after funeral, but the fruits of my labors have paid off and each morning I happily sing Happy Birthday to the survivors. My kids laugh at my antics and wonder why I care so much about my plants now. Little do my boys know they’ll be picking those flowers someday, years down the road, for all the girls they’ve loved before.