I have a small garden of plants that have grown from seed, but they're my mystery.

I don't know what kind of plants these are, but I'm fiercely proud of them. You see, when my bestie and I went to the Salt Lake City Library Book Sale, there was also a celebration for Earth Day happening as well. Lots of activities and lots of people in a cool building; I made a badge for my pin collection that resides on my scripture bag, and I encountered a guy who was wearing large signs telling me to go get a free plant. The goodies ended up being dirt in a plastic baggie scooped from a bucket by another guy surrounded by kids; I was a little disappointed, so the bag sat on my wooden stool just inside our bedroom doorway. Until the dirt started sprouting little green things. With very little sun and no water or attention from me.

I also had a packet of wildflower seeds from a church lesson on Faith. But especially heaven knows how many wildflowers there are in this world. Still, they all got planted in half a milkjug with holes and pebbles in the bottom:

They sit outside on a metal shelf-thing that neither of us care about anymore. It's a nice place for excess water to drain-- if it rusts because of my growing efforts, we just won't take it with us on our next move, and neither of us will care.

One other brief thought concerning growth: I no longer have a bellybutton. It has stretched out almost completely. Ironic that mine disappears so that another belly button can grow and flourish.

Also, my favorite pair of shoes has been decided unwearable. There's a hole in the sole of the left side that goes completely through. So, on one last thought, here is a memorial to something else green:

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