Eric came down to the kitchen this morning and started laughing. “What?” I demanded.

“The seeds.” He pointed, still laughing. “Look at all the seeds!”

I looked. Okay, there were paper towels, labelled in Sharpie, scattered all over. I’ve been saving seeds from various tomatoes as I cut them up for processing and put them in cups with a little water. Last night I had rinsed them and laid them out to dry: Brandywine, Roma, Cherokee Purple, and F2 cherry. And last night I had also made salsa, so I’d saved seeds from the tomatillo and the jalapenos. (Incidentally, my hands were still burning at bedtime last night. Those things were potent.)

But so what? I joined a seed exchange. I’m expanding my garden next year. I need the seeds.

(I can just see me next spring, begging Eric to let me go to the store for another packet. “I need them, man. Just one more!”)

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