🌱 🌷 Starting Seeds - Bedtime Stories for Adults - Soothing Stories for Grownups and All Ages

0:02 Welcome to The Slow Life, a village filled with cozy stories for everyone. I'll read this story 2 times to help you zone out or even fall asleep during the second reading. This story is called Starting Seeds and it's about a generous neighbor, a cat who loves lasagna and noticing quiet sounds. I've been out for a morning walk on the trail that reaches the beach. I took a few breaths to match the waves strolling in and out before heading back home.

0:52 As I came up to my neighbor's place, I saw that she was out at her garden shed, all set up at her outdoor table to plant seeds to start growing inside. I'd stopped in to say hello and after chatting for a few minutes about the weather and how excited we were about how the gardens will soon be coming to life again, she had given me her extra egg curtains to do some seed planting of my own. She'd also offered me some extra seeds that she had more than enough of for her own use.

1:38 It's still fairly early as I arrive home and I like it that way. My shoulders drop in relaxation knowing that a bit of my day is now planned out. I had already prepped for this day by getting bags of potting soil and collecting newspapers from my parents to contain the mess I'm bound to make during this process. I think my backyard patio and table are the perfect spot to host my seed planting this spring.

2:19 Sun is still mild enough that I don't need to hide under the patio umbrella, which hasn't yet been brought out for the season. For starters, I cover the outdoor table with the newspaper, layering sheets until the whole surface is filled with stories. I giggle. I had a few of my favorite comic strips that have been around since before I was born. You know, the one about the cat who hates Mondays and loves lasagna? The crossword puzzles are impressively complete.

3:03 Some pages have partial rings from coffee cups, and one page is missing a window of space where they'd cut out something interesting. It seems to have been a recipe from their favorite column. I wonder what it was and if they tried it yet. I head back into the kitchen where the rest of my seed packets are in the buffet drawer with the matches and tea lights. Some are store bought, folded in their glossy paper with bright pictures on the front and much appreciated directions on the back.

3:48 Others are saved in envelopes I'd sealed and written on last fall. Butternut squash that had grown up a wooden ladder against the fence, sugar snap peas that had done well on the patio in big pots and pumpkins, which yielded enough for Jack O lanterns and a few pies around Thanksgiving. As good as growing my own plants right from seed fields, saving seeds from those plants and using them the following year feels even better. Some of the trees are the egg curtains from my neighbor with perfectly sized cells waiting to be reused. I'm all for wearing gardening gloves at times, but today I get my fingers dark with soil, knowing I can scrub them off later.

4:54 I fill each space in the curtains with potting mix. The smell of the damp earth rising upwards, noticing the quiet sounds that accompany me is all part of the experience. The soft crinkle of the bag that holds the soil, my hands crumbling the bigger chunks that drop into the curtains and trays, and the birds never far away, probably eyeing the black seeds beside me that will turn into sunflowers throughout the summer. I remember with the peas to soak them in some water for a few days first, so I get their trays ready, but the soil will have to wait while the peas begin to sprout their tiny tails. Once a tray is filled with enough soil, I place a packet of seeds beside it to mark which ones will be filled with what. The butternut squash is first because it's the one I'm most proud of.

6:09 I haven't bought seeds for these in years because the crop always does well and I can save so many of the seeds for the following spring. I like the size of the seeds. They're easy to handle and difficult to lose between your fingers or be taken by a sudden gust of wind. I place the seed into each cell as gently as putting a sleeping puppy into their bed, whispering to them in my mind. See you soon, little ones. I scoop more soil up into my hands to cover them just enough to keep them safe, not worrying about the dirt that spills over the sides as the paper will help me gather it all to be used in the final trays.

7:10 I plant the pumpkins the same way and then the ever dependable green beans. They seemed to grow no matter what, as long as I pay a little attention to them. Some of the other packets are less familiar, so I'll need to pay closer attention to the instructions jotted on the backs. I picked them up from the seed exchange at the library. The brown envelopes with handwriting in all capital letters or beautiful cursive. At one of the cafes, they'd left a box of seed packets near the napkin dispensers. I took a few while waiting for my drink, drawn to names like Calendula and Purple Carrot.

8:06 Those go in to different trays. The zinnias and calendula get the shallow ones. I plant more than I should, more than I'll have space for, but the abundance can be shared with friends and neighbors, just as they do with their seedlings. But let us Seeds are like dust, so fine I have to pinch them carefully, trying not to lose any. I scatter a few extras, knowing I'll thin them out if needed. I continue on enjoying each repeated step, looking forward to using my tiny watering can to keep them fed and happy while I wait starting seeds. I've been out for a morning walk on the trail that reaches the beach.

9:12 I took a few breaths to match the waves strolling in and out before heading back home. As I came up to my neighbor's place, I saw that she was out at her garden shed, all set up at her outdoor table to plant seeds to start growing inside. I'd stopped in to say hello and after chatting for a few minutes about the weather and how excited we were about how the gardens will soon be coming to life again, she had given me her extra egg curtains to do some seed planting of my own.

9:58 She'd also offered me some extra seeds that she had more than enough of for her own use. It's still fairly early as I arrive home and I like it that way. My shoulders drop in relaxation knowing that a bit of my day is now planned out. I had already prepped for this day by getting bags of potting soil and collecting newspapers from my parents to contain the mess I'm bound to make during this process. I think my backyard patio and table are the perfect spot to host my seed planting this spring. Sun is still mild enough that I don't need to hide under the patio umbrella, which hasn't yet been brought out for the season. For starters, I cover the outdoor table with the newspaper, layering sheets until the whole surface is filled with stories.

11:12 I giggle. I had a few of my favorite comic strips that have been around since before I was born. You know, the one about the cat who hates Mondays and loves lasagna? The crossword puzzles are impressively complete. Some pages have partial rings from coffee cups, and one page is missing a window of space where they'd cut out something interesting. It seems to have been a recipe from their favorite column. I wonder what it was and if they tried it yet.

11:55 I head back into the kitchen where the rest of my seed packets are in the buffet drawer with the matches and tea lights. Some are store bought, folded in their glossy paper with bright pictures on the front and much appreciated directions on the back. Others are saved in envelopes I'd sealed and written on last fall. Butternut squash that had grown up a wooden ladder against the fence, sugar snap peas that had done well on the patio in big pots and pumpkins, which yielded enough for Jack O lanterns and a few pies around Thanksgiving. As good as growing my own plants right from seed fields, saving seeds from those plants and using them the following year feels even better.

13:00 Some of the trees are the egg curtains from my neighbor with perfectly sized cells waiting to be reused. I'm all for wearing gardening gloves at times, but today I get my fingers dark with soil, knowing I can scrub them off later. I fill each space in the curtains with potting mix. The smell of the damp earth rising upwards, noticing the quiet sounds that accompany me is all part of the experience. The soft crinkle of the bag that holds the soil, my hands crumbling the bigger chunks that drop into the curtains and trays, and the birds never far away, probably eyeing the black seeds beside me that will turn into sunflowers throughout the summer.

14:03 I remember with the peas to soak them in some water for a few days first, so I get their trays ready, but the soil will have to wait while the peas begin to sprout their tiny tails. Once a tray is filled with enough soil, I place a packet of seeds beside it to mark which ones will be filled with what. The butternut squash is first because it's the one I'm most proud of. I haven't bought seeds for these in years because the crop always does well and I can save so many of the seeds for the following spring.

14:51 I like the size of the seeds. They're easy to handle and difficult to lose between your fingers or be taken by a sudden gust of wind. I place the seed into each cell as gently as putting a sleeping puppy into their bed, whispering to them in my mind. See you soon, little ones. I scoop more soil up into my hands to cover them just enough to keep them safe, not worrying about the dirt that spills over the sides as the paper will help me gather it all to be used in the final trays. I plant the pumpkins the same way, and then the ever dependable green beans.

15:46 They seem to grow no matter what, as long as I pay a little attention to them. Some of the other packets are less familiar, so I'll need to pay closer attention to the instructions jotted on the backs. I picked them up from the seed exchange at the library. The brown envelopes with handwriting in all capital letters or beautiful cursive. At one of the cafes, they'd left a box of seed packets near the napkin dispensers. I took a few while waiting for my drink, drawn to names like Calendula and Purple Carrot. Those go in to different trays.

16:38 The zinnias and calendula get the shallow ones. I plant more than I should, more than I'll have space for, but the abundance can be shared with friends and neighbors just as they do with their seedlings. The lettuce seeds are like dust, so fine I have to pinch them carefully, trying not to lose any. I scatter a few extras, knowing I'll thin them out if needed. I continue on enjoying each repeated step, looking forward to using my tiny watering can to keep them fed and happy while I wait.

17:28 I wish you sweet dreams.