Seventh Street Cottage: frustrated

I know it's wordless Wednesday and all, but I've got to tell you, I am burned out. I'm frustrated by my semi failing experiment to raise plants from seed in the basement and later clone them for gifts. My fig cuttings are dying one by one. I have two that show even a glimmer of light. None of the traded cuttings survived. I don't know what I'm doing wrong, but there's definitely something not in my favor. Mom says it's the way I hold my mouth.

In the hoophouse, my plants look awful. The hardwood cuttings still show no sign of understanding that they should be producing calluses for the roots they'll need this summer. My perennials that I started from seed last year have one, maybe two leaves each. The willow is busting out of the containers. I NEED to get them in the ground soon. And I still have all that are to clean up first. The gully needs some attention soon.

But outside, the wintersown plants are just sitting there. They're taking almost anything mother nature throws their way. I get it. They're not pampered. They have their own roots. They get no support from me aside from emotional. And they're thriving. Some are even growing.

So what did I learn? I'm burned out on trying to find ways to cheat mother nature. Aside from tomatoes, this will be my last attempt as seed starting indoors. Or maybe I just won't start as early. My zinnias are blooming for pete's sake. I'm just over it. I'm over winter, and the frostbite makes me feel a little more than burned out.

Dying figs