In winter, I really want greenery. Mom sometimes buys dill, parsley, salad in the store. But the onion on the counter appears only in the spring, and I decided to grow it at home.
The grandmother-gardener approved my plans and even lent a box in which she usually keeps the seedlings. Now, at the beginning of winter, he was empty. My grandmother gave me advice on planting onions.
I filled the box with earth, lightly poured it and rammed it, made holes and put it in each on a bulb. My grandmother warned me that they do not need to be completely digested, but only a third. So I did. Then he poured a little more on each bulb and put the box on the window. Now I could only wait. True, you must not forget to water as the earth dries up.
A week later, the first shoots appeared: from the cores of the bulbs, bright green arrows came up. They added about a centimeter a day, and soon my box turned into a small plantation. She was pleased with the eye, reminding of this still far spring.
But most importantly: we could now cut the onions and add them to the food. “Very useful product,” said my mother. “Well done, he raised his first harvest,” the grandmother praised.
And my father ate with great appetite onion feathers with black bread and smiled approvingly.
For several winter months we lived with fresh greens on the table. Of course, bulbs had to be changed several times, but it’s not difficult, and already excavated can also be eaten.
Next winter I will certainly grow green again. Perhaps, except onions, I will put dill and parsley in boxes. I think home will support me in this endeavor.