It’s true: I’ve been skimping on the major holidays since my family has scattered and I won’t have the fun of planning an Easter dinner or setting an Easter table. (I really slacked off last Christmas — no tree, no stockings, no turkey. I’m depressed just recalling it.)
I’ve decided to do some preemptive Easter action, before we’re reduced to a ham steak and a bottle of Three Buck Chuck Chardonnay. I am going to have, so help me, a tablescape. This is more Martha Stewart than Sandra Lee; in fact I’m pretty sure I’m swiping the idea from a long-ago issue of MSL.
It helps that it’s pretty near free. I had a half package of Cat Grass tucked away in the freezer (packed for 2007, but I’ve found freezing can extend a seed packet’s life,) some soil mix, and a coeur a la creme mold I haven’t used for its intended purpose since Reagan’s second term. I chose it because it’s perforated for draining (I should really use it to make yoghurt cheese), it’s pretty, and if the whole project flops I’m out only half a pack of three year old oat grass seed. If you’re in the market for Cat Grass Seed, just Google it — wheat and rye varieties are out there too.
My cats love the stuff, by the way. Willow has been known to gorge on the blades, with occasional gastro-intestinal incidents from chowing down on all that chlorophyll.
Planted and watered.
Wrapped in a plastic wrap greenhouse and set on the kitchen windowsill.
The package says the seeds will sprout in three to eight days. If it’s three or even four, I’m good for Easter — I’ll have my heart shaped green ready to be a tiny White House lawn, strewn with flowers and hardboiled quails eggs. If it’s eight, well, Willow will have her fresh vegetables, served on the dining room table, which with no matter how much shooing, she regards as her personal tablescape.