One Tiny Sprout and a Whole Lot of Mold 🌱

One Tiny Sprout and a Whole Lot of Mold 🌱

On February 26th, I planted six different types of seeds. Five of them were chosen with a mission in mind: repel mosquitoes. Hyssop, Marigold, Catnip, Lemongrass, and Lavender—my dream team for summer evenings on the porch without the constant swatting. But the sixth? Hydrangea. No reason other than they’re pretty, and I wanted some beauty blooming out there too. 💙

Let’s talk about that hydrangea.

As a new gardener, I went with seeds instead of a plant or cutting—because I was impatient to start and trying to be budget-friendly. I ordered this wild mystery packet from Amazon:
“100+ Mix Hydrangea Seeds for Planting Macrophylla Giant Snowball Bonsai Hydrangea Fast Growing Shrub”
(Yes, I earn a small commission if you click, and yes, I also have transparency notes on every page.)

I didn’t read a single review before hitting Buy Now. Rookie move.

I started my seeds in a couple of ways—coffee cups (more on that later) and an old pie tin with a plastic lid for the hydrangeas. I also tried the “wet paper towel in a ziplock baggie” method for some of them. Why not? I was experimenting.

About a week and a half in, magic happened.
Out of the half-packet of hydrangea seeds I planted, one tiny sprout appeared in the pie tin. Just one. The rest of the soil? Mold. Pure mold. I panicked a little, then carefully moved that solo survivor into a mason jar.

My one little hydrangea hero 🌱—four leaves strong and holding its own after surviving mold, a pie tin, and a late-night transplant into a mason jar. Proof that even a tiny sprout counts as a win.

Fast forward to today—March 26th—and I’m the proud plant mama of one itty-bitty hydrangea seedling with four tiny leaves. That’s it. Just the one.

The ziplock bag method? Also mold. Every bit of it. And when I finally checked the Amazon reviews, they were full of people saying they never got anything to sprout.

So… a win for me?? 😅

It’s been humbling, hilarious, and kind of heartwarming. One sprout, one lesson at a time.

More on the mosquito-repelling plants coming soon (and coffee cup regrets), but for now—I’m just grateful for this tiny green miracle holding on in its mason jar.