I have only grown something from seed once in my entire life. At 8, there was a school growing competition (yes that’s the way to teach it, everything is a competition). So I tried to grow a sunflower, and my friend who had a small garden and a gardening-mad father grew one too and won. Ours was on a north facing windowsill and died after growing about 4 inches. My mum told me it would happen because we weren’t the kind of people who could grow things. My friend’s one was 8 feet tall... (He was also two years older, and much taller, and reaching an early puberty, so make of the symbolism what you will.)
Anyway I have always believed that I am uniquely incapable of growing anything. But I have actually managed to sprout some runner beans and chives. I feel so genuinely proud. It is, as they say, sort of magical. When the leaves unfurled this morning and they started to look like real plants, and the colour is that bright yellow green that just *glows* with life, it really is the most cheering thing imaginable. They may die when I plant them. But just knowing that even I can actually grow seedlings - and am not uniquely a bringer of death, as I sort of believed - is wonderful.
