Nine packets of seeds were going for 99
Indeed, three cardboard racks of seed packets are blocking the hardware aisle. How could I not buy nine? In retrospect I wonder: could I have bought four or five for eleven cents each? Do I save more money by buying more, as the 99 Cent Store always seems to promise?
After laboriously selecting nine packets and queuing up at the cash register, I notice that I have a packet of bush lima beans. OOPS! All my beans must grow up the fence, so I go back and trade them for a second packet of lettuce.
I had thought I would not try any root vegetables this year, but eleven-cent radishes and carrots are just too tempting, along with two varieties of summer squash -- surely bigger bushes than the lima beans would have been. Maybe I can start a row along the north fence. Meanwhile, a scarlet runner bean has already sprouted from the seed I saved last fall. What will happen to the expensive rattlesnake bean seeds I bought in Solana Beach?
Strawflower (helicrysum) seeds raise the most difficult questions. I've tried them unsuccessfully a couple of times, yet my mother, Charlotte, was proud to have grown multitudes of them one summer when I was in junior high. Maybe this will be the year of the strawflower for me, and maybe they will penetrate Charlotte's dementia as nasturtiums and violets do when I take them to her.
Seed-buying time is fraught with "visions and revisions," questions, maybes, gambles. Mostly, though, it's a time of hope, and nine for 99 cents is a good deal.