They were big. Bigger than any of my seedlings. They were bold, growing away from the newly furrowed fields. Rebel plants, sprouting in the shoulders of our very own Yolo! And a mystery. Tomato? Sugar beets? Sunflowers... or some spliced super-duper genetic marvel? I didn't know, but I knew one way to find out. And that's when I hatched my plan...
Today, I came home right after work, and for the first time this year, didn't have to cajole, bribe, or argue with myself. I pulled on the layers of lycra, strapped on my carbon soled shoes and helmet, and hastened my bike out the door. With plastic bags, a hand trowel, and Sports beans, I was on a mission. A rescue mission.
Okay, pics are better.
I wish I had centered more, but I was a very nervous seedling rustler.
"Honestly, officer, I was just taking pictures of the view...."
I know. I've lead a pathetically clean life. Until now!
|1001 Uses for a Bento Box.|
So it was into my sweaty back jersey pocket for the 45 minutes it took to get home.
But these super-duper engineered and genetic monsters are hardy.
|Little Shop of Horrors, anyone?|