Posts Tagged seeds

Softneck garlic, planted last October, ready to grow

I haven’t gone out to Dave’s farm this week to work.  The spring rains started up Sunday night and continued, off and on, into Tuesday, catching a brief pause yesterday before starting up again today.  We had hoped to clean up some of the vegetable beds, pulling the remnants of last year’s crops in preparation for setting out transplants in a couple of weeks, but each evening I waited for word from the boss man, only to hear that it was still “muddy as hell” out in the fields and that I needn’t bother to come out.

And so it goes.  Welcome to Spring.

Late last week, at least, on the very cusp of a new season, the warmth and sunshine conspired to draw me outside to work in my own garden patches to get ready for this year’s crops.

Hardy lemon balm, greening up and fragrant

I started on Friday with a visit to garden #1, just around the corner and behind a friend’s house.  While I wasn’t ready to yank all the weeds and such out of the soil, just to leave it bare for a few more weeks, I did check on the sprouting garlic (top) and the reviving peppermint and lemon balm (above).  I harvested small clumps of both the mint and the lemon balm, as well as two small bunches of pac choi that had overwintered well enough to continue growing this spring.  What a treat!

First seed bed of the year, planted March 19

Despite the early date, I decided to take a chance and plant the first outdoor seeds of the season.  I reasoned that as long as I planted cold-hardy crops, sowed them close to the stone foundation of the house, and mulched them heavily with straw, it would be worth the risk.  So I wielded my new collinear hoe to clean up the soil in that area, then laid down a line of fava beans, another of sugar snap peas, and a small row of hon tsai tai (an Asian green) and claytonia (or miner’s lettuce, normally found growing wild).  Will they survive whatever late snows and frosts get thrown at them — and thrive?  I hope so.

Garden #2, waking up from a long winter's nap

On Saturday, I visited garden #2, in the backyard of my adopted “family” in town.  My goal in this visit was to gauge what work might need to be done in coming weeks, to refresh my memory as to what was planted last year (before sketching out a garden plan for this year), and to harvest the remaining root vegetables.

Yes, I still had loads of parsnips and even some small carrots still in the ground.  Having last harvested some on Christmas Eve, I never made it back to the garden before the hard freezes of January and the snowstorms of February made me lose sight of the roots completely.  Happily, they came up easily this time, covered in thick black mud that smeared across my hands, and I filled a bag with sweet vegetables.

A few green onions lingered in the garden, but again, I didn’t worry about clearing weeds and preparing the beds just yet since I won’t get back to plant seeds for another couple of weeks.  It was enough to visit and reacquaint myself with what remained.

Later in the weekend, I sat down with my seed list and sketched out the two gardens, as well as another plot I hope to tend this year.  In each, I penciled in last year’s crops before writing in what I planned to grow this year, rotating the crops around and using companion herbs and vegetables to fill in the beds.  After that, I designated a sort of grid for each garden and figured out what could be planted first and when.  It pleased me to notice that I had managed to place all the early crops together in each garden, making it easier to plan my weeding and seeding in a couple of weeks.

As you might guess from a glimpse of the seed inventory list I shared a couple weeks back, I probably have way more seed than I have room to plant this year.  My garden plans, though they look ambitious and spacious on paper, will likely prove once again to handle only so much planting.  But that has never stopped me before, and it won’t stop me this year, either.

I might even have to check out a possible new garden plot in town.  And I’ll keep my hopes high for this year’s harvest.

Cabbage and brussels sprouts -- sprouting!

After some damp, chilly weather earlier in the week, we’re back to sunshine, temperatures in the 60s, and utter springtime bliss.  It’s a great time to be a farmer.

I spent two more days in the greenhouse this week, seeding flat after flat after flat… almost ad infinitum.  Almost.  We were running low on shelf space by Wednesday morning, so while I seeded a couple of flats of onions — small seeds, 5 to a cell, 48 cells on a flat, oh my achin’ neck and back — Dave built a small shelf unit that fit just right into the aisle at one end of the greenhouse, giving us room for another 13 flats.

By the time I finished my work on Wednesday, we had a total of 110 flats in the greenhouse, most of them seeded by yours truly.  Again, Dave noted, we had set a new record — the most flats this early in the season.

Now, of course, we have to wait and hope that the weather in early April will cooperate with us for planting.  A neighbor told him that the Farmer’s Almanac predicts a snowstorm for us for the first week of April, which is when we should be planting the early greens and root vegetables.  We will see what happens.

The beauty of all this work in the greenhouse is that I’m already seeing results.  When I stepped in Tuesday morning, several flats greeted me with slender pale green stems waving delicate pairs of first leaves.  Nothing quite gives you hope that spring is on the way as those first shoots.

And back at home, I’ve been enjoying a similar scene.  The sprouts shown above are the cabbage and brussels sprouts I planted late last week.  I’m also seeing some green popping out of cells of onions, chives, thyme, and wild bergamot.

Granted, I’ve lost a few seedlings already to mold, thanks to too much water retained in the flats.  And the red cipollini onions are getting leggy, so I’ve had to move them around a bit and will need to work on some reflectors this weekend.  But it’s a step in the right direction overall.

The weather is expected to remain warm and lovely this weekend, so I am hoping to get out to my gardens to spruce things up.  Why stay in?  I want to get outside and enjoy this breath of spring while I can.

This past week I spent two five-hour days working with Dave in the greenhouse, planting flat after flat of seeds.  He filled the pots while I kept going with the tweezers and seed bowl, and by the end of my shift on the second day, I had set a “new record” for his farm: 27 flats seeded in one day, bringing us up to a total of 64 flats ready to grow.

“I wouldn’t have gotten that much done on my own,” Dave commented — the verbal equivalent of a friendly slap on the back.

Turns out, it’s exhausting work sowing seeds in flats.  You might not think so, but standing all day in one place, leaning over the flat, and meticulously popping one seed into each cell can be a real pain in the back.  On the other hand, it’s very absorbing work — though you can certainly carry on conversations or sing along to the music while you work and not lose your place — and it’s satisfying to know that so many plants will grow from such simple work.

So it’s no wonder that after two days of this in the greenhouse, I was eager to get more of my own seeds started at home.

Organizing all the seeds by type and variety

In organizing my seed box this year, I took the extra step of entering all the information — variety, source, year bought/harvested, starting and planting specifications — into a spreadsheet so that I knew what I had and could tag what needed to be started early.

That extra bit of organization helped me pull those seeds needing an early start, and seeing the first flat of onions sprouting well over the past week encouraged me to try more seeds.

I pulled out more onion seeds — this year’s choice of Clear Dawn open-pollinated onions, reputedly good for storage — as well as a selection of herbs, and sowed another flat of seeds.  Later in the week, after picking up a couple more flats and more pots, I planted yet more herbs (including cumin, a new one for the spice garden) and the first brassicas (broccoli, brussels sprouts, cabbage).

Keeping track of what gets sown

Then I started a secondary spreadsheet, following the record-keeping style Dave had me use with his seeds: listing the date, the type and variety of seed, the source and lot number, the quantity, and which flat the seeds were planted in.  Since my first seeds were already sprouting, I added a column for the germination date (so I can compare to what the seed packet tells me) as well as columns to use later in planting.

Overboard?  Not really.  So often my enthusiasm has gotten me to plant, plant, plant — and then forget what I had planted and where.  This system should keep me on track better this year.

Of course, now that I’m more confident about starting seeds properly at home, the impulse is to start even more seeds.  At this point, I only have one flat left, and I’m running out of space by the window, so either I’ll have to stop soon — or farm out my seedlings to other places (like a flat of tomatoes and basil to my parents for safe-keeping).  Not having a greenhouse at home is starting to cramp my style!

And this also means I’ll likely need to find more room to plant more seedlings…

Filing new seeds with old, by category

In past years, I’ve given a half-hearted effort to starting my garden plants from seed.  Stick a few seeds into a little pot with seed-starting mix, plunk a tray in the window, and let it go to it, I thought.

Is it any wonder that I had such an abysmal rate of success?

It’s never stopped me, though, from dreaming that I could get my seeds started early, have fantastic seedlings to transplant into the garden, and have a lush garden all summer long.  I have no sales resistance where seeds are concerned, and if you look at the bin pictured above, you have proof positive.

This year, though, I’m determined to get it right.  I have somewhat better equipment at home, I have professional guidance, and I have a plan.

I did purchase some trays, humidity lids, peat pots, and starting mix this winter, and while I have yet to get grow lights, I’m working on low-energy reflector panels to help give my seeds enough light to grow.  Heat will be another issue once I get to tomatoes and other heat-loving plants; I may actually have to turn up the furnace.

This past week, I had my first lesson in seed-staring with Dave, my farmer for the season.  We got started in his greenhouse, and I quickly discovered one or two things I needed to do differently:

1.  Sterilize the pots, flats, cells, whatever is being used for the medium and the seeds.

2.  Fill pots and cells with seed starting mix, and tamp the medium down a bit (otherwise it will compact under watering anyway).

3.  Water the medium-filled pots first.

4.  Sow seeds according to the depth listed on the package.

5.  Label and record flats according to seed sown.

Since we started our day’s work with sterilizing many pots and trays, I only ended up sowing six flats of onion and leek seeds for Dave, but at least it set us up for more work this coming week.

Starting with expandable pots

Back at home, I pulled out the pack of expandable pots I had purchased and started soaking them before adding onion seeds.  I covered the tray with a clear plastic humidity lid, and a few days later, once I saw the first pale sprouts reaching up, I removed the lid, and added more water.  So far, so good.  As the sprouts get bigger, I understand I may need to allow a little breeze to flow over them (in order to strengthen them), and if placing them near a furnace vent doesn’t cut it, I can pull out a fan.

Having seen this much success, I started another flat with a second variety of onion, followed by a few herbs (orange thyme, zaatar marjoram, garlic chives, and wild bergamot).  And soon I hope to fill another flat with more seedlings, along with a few small pots, as long as I can find more flat space for storing the trays.

I’m sure I’ll learn more the longer I work with Dave in his greenhouse.  And I’m optimistic that this will be the year when I finally get it right.