I found these adorable, tiny bulb kits at Joann. A tiny pot–we’re talking two inches across, if that–a pellet of soil, and two bulbs–crocus, anemone, or grape hyacinth. $1.50. I got two for my mom and one for my gardening stepmother-in-law. I didn’t get one for me. Now I’m wondering why not. We’re saving up for a computer for Eric, it’s true…but $1.50! And there’s room even in my crowded plant window for a two-inch pot!

On the other hand, I’ve received a couple of other seed catalogs in the mail–this displeases me, actually, as they were both from places I haven’t ordered from, which means my name’s gone on a list and I am contributing to junk mail pileup (though we do recycle). One of these was Totally Tomatoes, and while I found the lack of breadth a little disappointing, the depth of material was impressive. The other was some flower catalog–Solomon’s?–and I flipped through it once, and found that even with my avid and sincere interest in trading for flower seeds to grow next year, I’m still not a flower gardener. I was indifferent to most of the offerings, and even the ones that interested me didn’t really say “Buy me!” They were more laid-back, kicking it with their flower bros, saying amongst themselves, “We’re pretty cool, maybe she should remember our names so she’ll know to pick us up if she comes across us later.” (Not that I do.)

So I can’t promise I won’t pick up a couple of tiny kits when I go back, but it won’t herald the beginning of an era as a flower gardener. I’m interested in learning about them, but they clearly don’t have the hold on me that, say, peppers do. Or tomatoes. Or corn. Or beans. Or…