The basement nursery. I started the seeds the first week of March in black plastic trays on the old folding table, under a shop light hung on chains from the floor joists. Tomatoes (Early Girl, Better Boy and the new Brandywines) and green peppers, marked with popsicle sticks. Bailey, our granddaughter, is in charge of emptying the popsicles, and takes it seriously.

The trick with a shop light is to keep it just an inch or two above the leaves and move it up as they grow, or the plants get tall and spindly reaching for it. The chains make that easy.

That's me with the watering can in my pink sweatshirt, and yes, those are socks on the line behind me. It's a basement. The bright spot in the corner is the flash bouncing off a clear seed-tray lid. Jimmie took this one and would like it known that he was told to hurry.