It wasn’t long ago that I wrote about starting to sprout alfalfa seeds (March 19 blog). I actually had them started a day before posting about this venture.
The first batch is ready to eat and I’m enjoying them. It’s something fresh and green in my diet.
Besides alfalfa sprouts, I’ve also started a mix with clover and another with lentils, peas, mung bean and adzuki bean–whatever that is. These just went into the sprouter yesterday and I already see little shoots starting to pop out today.
Since I’m having so much fun growing these seeds, I went searching for my old sprouter. I remember that two of the plastic levels had broken. Maybe I threw the whole thing out at that time, but maybe I didn’t.
Guess what, I found my original sprouter or at least half of it, and now I’m able to have more seeds going.
The new set up is on the left and the old sprouter is on the right.
I’ve been munching alfalfa sprouts for a couple of days. Finally, I have enough to make a mouthful. If I keep the seeds cycling through the containers, I should have something growing to eat every day.
I bought my packaged seeds online through Amazon, but from the Sprout House (www.sprouthouse.com).
I didn’t start growing my alfalfa seeds in a jar. Like any kid, I wanted a ‘toy’ to play with and bought a sprouter online. Kitchen Crop VKP1200 Deluxe Kitchen Seed Sprouter, | 6″ Diameter Trays, 1 Oz Alfalfa Included
That ounce of alfalfa that’s included will take me a long way, but I also ordered some seed mixes.
My new sprouter
Water drains from the top, through the sprouting levels and is caught in the lower green level. I’m to put the water through this straining system two to three times a day.
It’s like having another pet, though it is not a Chia Pet. It will grow edible sprouts. I’m not so sure about eating Chia sprouts. At least those packaged as a pet are not recommended to eat, but the ones that are sold as edible chia seeds are.
You’ll have to wait a few days to see how my project is growing.
Today I feel like a farmer again. Bob would be proud.
My 1980-1981 column collection is finished and is up on Kindle for purchase. The paperback will be in production as soon as I get my proof and check it over. I’m supposed to get my proof copy by next Tuesday.
Stories from these two years include three children: Robby, Becky, and Russell–Rachel came into the picture in 1982.
Here’s a romantic story form this book in honor of Valentine’s Day:
“Oh, Rats!” to those bats
August
5, 1981
He came out of the house. We sat by the
picnic table, a full moon above our heads. It was so romantic, a fragile
evening.
The work noises of the day had faded. I
was no longer overpowered by the roar of the tractor being tuned up near the
shop. It sat quietly nearby—in pieces—not to roar again until a needed part was
shipped in.
Birds swooped about the yard in silent
precision, eating hundreds of juicy insects. The sound of a muffled train
whistle sounded in the distance.
It was an evening all the money in the
world couldn’t buy. It was an evening worth waiting for, for weeks… for
months.
He whispered into my ear, “You’re
alone?”
I sighed, “Yes.” And thought,
“Oh Boy! Here it comes. Here comes one of his priceless romantic
statements.” (They are so priceless because they’re so rare. Anyway, it
had to be one the evening called for one; it yelled for one. And so did I, silently,
of course.)
So I waited and waited for the words that
were sure to come from his lips—words I would cherish for another five years,
until the next time, when he’d again stumble over another few.
“I’m surprised you’re sitting out
here like this,” he said.
“The night was made for it… for
us.” I thought a few words from me would help him spit out a good line.
“I’m just surprised. I know how much
you hate them,” he said with a yawn.
Somehow it wasn’t quite what I expected
him to say. I wanted romance. Instead I got a puzzle.
“What are you talking about? What do
I hate?” I had to ask, knowing his answer was sure to blow the evening for
good.
“Bats… you hate bats.”
“So?”
“Those happen to be bats flying
around the yard,” he said, calmly.
“Bats? No…. BATS? Are you
sure?” (Why I asked him if he was sure I don’t know. He’s always sure. And
with one more look up so was I.).
“BATS!!! I thought they were
birds.” I jumped up and ran to the house, my head tucked under my arms.
“Where are you going?” He
remained sitting on the bench, in the moonlight.
“IN!”
“But it’s such a nice night…. I
thought you knew they were bats. They weren’t hurting you.”
“They didn’t hurt me when I thought
they were birds. They might now that I know they’re bats.”
For a man who claims to love me so much,
he can be cruel. He stole away the night and the promise of romance, with one
word – “BATS!”
“Oh,
RATS!”
I hope you enjoyed the story I shared.
I also hope that you would consider buying this kindle book or the paperback when it comes out.
Come ride down farm roads these days and you may end up with a two-tone car. I did.
Farm machinery is going in and out of wet fields, leaving trails of mud. It gets scraped off the roads as soon as the farmer can, but some recent mud is inevitable.
Take this as a warning. Harvesting this year is a bugger for farmers. They would rather not have the mud, but wet weather has made mudpies of many fields.
Lucky for me, my husband is fast with a power washer. Bob said he’d take care of the addition of mud to my car exterior.
It didn’t take much spraying to bring back the silver.
