Something about springtime makes people want to dig in dirt, take in the rich, earthy smell and watch minute particles find hiding places under fingernails. Bill is the family gardener and he tills the soil well. I, on the other hand, am more like a butterfly or a dandelion....not one to rely upon, for in a poof!, I'm gone. I like to be outdoors but prefer to flit about, checking out this or that; digging a hole, pulling some weeds, planting a few seeds but commitment is not in my genetic code. For that, I look to Bill. Currently, he is planting old seeds with expiration dates that came and went long ago stamped on the colorful envelopes. Sunday he decided to plant beans and peas and began to head outdoors when I asked why he wasn't soaking them. "I never have" was his reply. Having seen Jessie, our neighbor with green thumbs and garden clogs permanently parked on her front porch, soak seeds over the years, I gave her a call and she said to soak them about a day and a half. As we sat down to dinner tonight, two jars filled with water and soaking seeds were at Bill's place at the table. The beans and peas were swollen with potential, not unlike the belly I gazed upon when I was near term. He finished his dinner and headed outdoors to find a nesting place for the peas, after all their due date has long passed.
