*adds 236 to the yearly word count*
The eggplants and chili peppers are planted, woo!
Well, I said I would write something original in April, even if it was, like, a paragraph, so:
*cracks knuckles over keyboard*
"I'm not sure I understand the point," Marbaline admitted. She rested her chin on her hand and cocked a brow at Seth's meticulous efforts. "What's the point of planting a vegetable you can't eat?"
"It's an heirloom," Seth explained. He patted the soil into the forty-third paper cup and fitted it into the tray with its kin.
"Heirloom from whom?" Marbaline asked. Grandpa had left them two hundred dollars, and a case full of coffee mugs, but she didn't remember getting any seeds.
"From the eighteen hundreds," Seth said, rather enigmaticallly.
Marbaline thought that the two hundred dollars should be spent on a hutch and a couple of rabbits, personally. Big white ones. All Seth seemed interested in was growing Easter Eggs. She shifted to her other foot and leaned on the porch rail. Seth dropped a seed in each cup and covered it over. It amazed Marbaline that a boy who couldn't sweep the kitchen without knocking over two canisters and a chair could be so precise with seeds the size of a pinhead.
There might be money left over for a windchime, or two, after they bought rabbits, wire, wood, hay, and feed. "Hey, Seth."
Seth was lost in a fantasy of bushes covered in yellow and white balls of fruit nobody could eat.
"Those sprout by Sunday, we're getting rabbits."
Seth nodded, and Marbaline looked up to the big white clouds and smiled.
Well, I said I would write something original in April, even if it was, like, a paragraph, so:
*cracks knuckles over keyboard*
"I'm not sure I understand the point," Marbaline admitted. She rested her chin on her hand and cocked a brow at Seth's meticulous efforts. "What's the point of planting a vegetable you can't eat?"
"It's an heirloom," Seth explained. He patted the soil into the forty-third paper cup and fitted it into the tray with its kin.
"Heirloom from whom?" Marbaline asked. Grandpa had left them two hundred dollars, and a case full of coffee mugs, but she didn't remember getting any seeds.
"From the eighteen hundreds," Seth said, rather enigmaticallly.
Marbaline thought that the two hundred dollars should be spent on a hutch and a couple of rabbits, personally. Big white ones. All Seth seemed interested in was growing Easter Eggs. She shifted to her other foot and leaned on the porch rail. Seth dropped a seed in each cup and covered it over. It amazed Marbaline that a boy who couldn't sweep the kitchen without knocking over two canisters and a chair could be so precise with seeds the size of a pinhead.
There might be money left over for a windchime, or two, after they bought rabbits, wire, wood, hay, and feed. "Hey, Seth."
Seth was lost in a fantasy of bushes covered in yellow and white balls of fruit nobody could eat.
"Those sprout by Sunday, we're getting rabbits."
Seth nodded, and Marbaline looked up to the big white clouds and smiled.