Seed Starting. Ugh. Actually. Double Ugh.

Most garden bloggers have photos of their healthy, vibrant seedlings on display these days.

Not me. You don't want to see what I do to seedlings. In fact, I can barely think about it without my stomach going in knots.

Leggy? Yep. Damping off? Check. Mostly dead at this point? Check. Check.

I find faith in an article that I read recently by a life-long gardener. He described the abuse his seedlings took - while he tried to grow them in a classroom as a high schooler. Fellow classmates would try, when his back was turned, to kill the seedlings in various ways, including pouring soda into the soil. But, the author explained, the seedlings persisted and won out in the end.

Maybe some of mine will pull through. My maltreatment wasn't of the same ilk as those high schoolers. Just more ding-batty than anything else. An inability to pick up on the subtle cues each seedling gave me during their sprouting.

I will probably go home this evening and start from scratch. Try to apply what I learned from this last batch of seedlings. That is, after all, what keeps me addicted to gardening. Is it frustrating? Sometimes. Forgiving? Often. Boring? Never. Thank goodness.