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Green II: Sprouty Sprouty Sprout Pants

I’m not sure how it happened, but I turned my back for a weekend and the shrubby green moat around my house went insane in my absence. Green makes me happy, even happier than brown.

There is green, lots of green, where there used to be nothing but dirt over a buried potato:

Sproing is not putting it too strongly.

Like the ugly duckling of the vegetable patch, the potato I buried has exploded into finery and become a beautiful green swan! Huzzah! How many potatoes will I get from this exciting plant? Will M and I finally be free of our crippling potato expenditure? M has also thrown in a couple of tomato plants to keep it company.

Poppin' up

Look, I know trees and plants ‘n’ shit are everywhere. Photos of someone’s garden are not so much a dime a dozen as completely free by the million. But frankly, green things are incredible (the Hulk, for one, but I digress). We’re talking about lifeforms that takes carbon dioxide — our exhales — and sunlight — sunlight! — and turns them into sugars, which they then turn into leaves, stems, flowers, fruit, peanuts and thistles. I can’t do that. I can’t make much at all from sunlight. And in the process, those lifeforms release oxygen as a waste product. Any primary-schooler will tell you oxygen is kinda handy for you and I. They’re taking sunlight and making life from it. That blows my mind.

And then, my alltime favourite.


These little babies don’t photosynthesise, I like ’em anyway.

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