The dear little seeds of my tomatoes-to-be have all sprouted, and are enjoying the light of our dining room window.
And, just when I thought I was spending too much time dreaming of tomatoes, I ended up next to someone at a dinner party who graced me with inspiring tomato talk. After his home burned in the Cedar Fire, and his garden was destroyed, he spread some of the old garden soil on his new plot. Volunteer tomatoes sprouted, and have been growing for the past year-and-a-half. He'd just picked some of the fruits that day.
Which is making me both delight in the resilience of seeds, and wonder why I worry so much about taking care of these little seedlings.
In other delightful news, our irises are beginning to unfurl their purple splendor. A bit bold for Lent--but at least they're in liturgically correct colors.