My little seedlings have graduated from the nursery and have moved on to the paper cups. They are spreading their little true leafs and, so far, they have not caused me too much trouble. Like the good Catholic that I am not, I have started the next batch of babies as well.
But like any big family, space has quickly become an issue. Not so much space, as it relates to space, time & the final frontier, but rather well lit, happy, healthy for baby plants space.
Technically, I have a spot in my plant room, but it is susceptible to the radical climate fluctuations outside. Not so much that it would kill a mature plant, but I am not so sure that a fledgling baby plant can withstand Cleveland weather. As it is, I can barely withstand it and I just don’t feel right subjecting the weak and helpless to it too.
So, all of my little plants are huddled together on an aquarium stand in my kitchen. Evenly heated but badly lit. This is the part where it is helpful to have a clever husband.
My husband only had to listen to me fret for a few minutes before he ran for his Superman suit and swooped in to save the day. Actually, he swooped on down to my local big box hardware store and returned with a bag of stuff to save the day. Now that I mention it, I don’t think he wanted to save the day at all. I think he was just looking for an excuse to go shopping at the hardware store.
Anyhoo, whatever his reasons, he rigged me up a damn fine, hillbilly solution to my problem. With an old piece of pole, a broken pair of TV rabbit ears, an extension cord, 3 light bulb sockets, 3 fluorescent light bulbs, some chain and a whole lot of ingenuity not seen since MacGyver went off the air, my little seedlings are now as happy as a greased pig in a bacon factory.
You have to admit, having a clever husband can be a bonus. Now if only I could somehow get him to find a way to build something that would weed the garden automatically.