Planting seeds from four years ago, two at a time, into the 96-well planter. A new planter, because I left all of my old ones behind at the old house. Warmed by a space heater, because I also left behind my heated mat. I kept my journal though, so I know I'm behind by a week. And I kept my seeds, obviously. All boxed up, in their Southern Exposure packets, kept as much for their packets as their contents.
Early Snowball, Savoy Perfection, Green Goliath, Cherokee Purple, San Marzano, Vinson Watts, Sweet Chocolate, Radiator Charlie's Mortgage Lifter, Illini Star, Matt's Wild Cherry.
I don't mind that it's uncertain whether anything will come up at all, because I've only got room for one or two plants at the most, out on the deck in the one patch that stays lit for more than 8 hours with the trees all leafed in. I always had trouble picking which ones to transplant and tried to keep too many, so if just one out of the nearly two hundred lifts its head above the soil I'll consider the experiment a success. Actually, even if none of them come up, the experiment will be a success. Most experiments are, as long as you actually do them. You always learn something, as long as you're asking questions.
I spend a lot of time troubleshooting other people's experiments these days. I like that I get to do so much thinking on my feet. Still, I always seem to have one thing where I'm the one on the ground. Often it's coding. I don't really like it any more, but I'm the best at it, and I know how much a coding error can derail a project.
I doubt I'm going to be able to bring this one back full circle. No matter.