There is a row of rag-tag "pots" lining the porch, containing what my husband calls my "ten year tree plan."
I use the term "pots" loosely because, well, they're really industrial-sized aluminum cans that once held excessive amounts of green beans. Because we work at a Bible Camp.
I've talked about my little trees here, before (when they sprouted and also a week later when they grew little leaves), and then I really didn't say much else.
My venture into tree growing isn't really that much of a story to tell, actually.
I decided that I wanted some fruit trees around our little acreage. So when my in-laws gave us apples from their trees, I kept several seeds. We got a couple pears from the grocery store, and I kept a couple seeds from those, too.
The seeds, folded into a wet paper towel, spent the winter in our fridge in zip-lock baggies until they started to sprout.. and then I planted them in a little potting soil. Someday soon, we'll plant them in the ground around our place, and hopefully, they'll grow.
It's not a ground-breaking story. But my little ten year tree plan reminds me of something about myself:
I am stubborn.