Instead from the ground / Some magic they found / Something far better I'm told

dear coz,
I don't know if the po- the sproutlings you gave me are going to make it. I put the germinator on the hidden windowsill, beside the equinoctial-clone (which has, by the way, after digging into the earth, has shown no interest in producing any new body parts) and the sprouts, they seemed happy there. After the first day, they were all entirely fallen over towards the sun, so I started playing that game of "guess where the sun's going to be this morning?" with them. And the first time, they played along, a perfect sun salutation. The next evening, they only seemed to have been able to have managed a vague solar pushup, and collapsed overnight. I left them as is, and the next day was much the same. I began to theorize that their uplifting was coordinated with the water I've been feeding them, and tried to pay more attention to maintaining a steady dampness.
This morning, when I went to water them, something new had happened. Most of the stems had gotten all tangled together, and the leafy bits were all wadded up, and had this dark, spinachy look. I took the whole thing out to the porch to try to capture more direct sun. After a couple of hours at staring at them, I could not resist trying to coax the stems apart by hand. This is the part of the story where usually I would say "and I think I did more harm than good" but actually, in this case, I think I freed one healthy stem from the mess. This leaves two viable-looking plants, which is not very many. Maybe enough, though, there's at least one ridiculously named website with unreadable typography that claims that only two or three flowers of the species can live in a single peat pellet.
Anyway, I'm enjoying the experiment, and I think I'll want to sprout more of them.
I should have been taken photos, but my camera is still full of that protest in march, and a little bit of video from Last Thursday.
Today I stole some of your rosemary. I hope to reproduce it.
~jes