Project: Seed Start

Each and every year I end up starting seeds indoors — even if I don’t want to! I don’t have enough light. The sprouts grow into pale, stringy wisps of stems with tiny, sad, drooping leaves. But I simply cannot wait another month to start something growing so I persuade myself over and over with my own privately written propaganda, repeat that 30 second advertising spot, “The Amish don’t have fancy grow lights. They must start seeds before the last frost date. Their farm stand opens in what, May?” “This year will be better. I’ll set them up closer to the southwest window somehow. Rig something up right over the heater, yeah, that’ll warm ’em up good, too.” “Farmers having been starting seeds indoors for generations, before  grow lights.”

Then April showers rain down and the skies remain foggy, brooding. Even I am stretching, searching for some sunshine. Where is spring? The local sayings are shouted about, “We have two seasons here, not four – summer and winter.” “We don’t have spring here, we have flood and mud.”

And each year, from sheer will, a few seeds will successfully, miraculously transfer to the garden and make it, enough so that I repeat the process again in the following spring. But many do not and I reassure myself next year I will save up and buy the coveted 3-tier lighting system from Gardeners’ Supply. It’s really not all that much … yikes, imagine how many plants I could buy with that price tag … (daydream).

Well this year, I have invested in a grow light. Not my first wish 3-tier stand from Gardeners’ Supply, but a scaled down economical version that I pulled off for just under $50. At first I thought to rig some sort of stand from leftover lumber that would rest on a table from which I could hang a shop light, but that would require my favorite contractor. Scheduling the contractor would also require time, time that might, most probably, would slip away. Then aha, why not just hang said light from ceiling? It will be over a table so no one will unsuspectingly walk into it. Will I really mind a couple of hooks in my ceiling the rest of the year? And so be it.

I chose the corner of my kitchen table because I want to be close to my seeds, catch their every spurt of growth, talk to them, coax them. Close to water. Close to that southwest facing window, too, just for good measure. The light is just your average shop light tricked out with plant grow bulbs, suspended with chain, all purchased from the hardware store.

I placed cut up paper towel rolls, and some leftover seed starting coir pots from last year in various trays, my favorite being an old Le Creuset stoneware dish with a hairline crack that I no longer trust for baking. I mentioned last year to my brother-in-law how I came across the idea of reusing paper towel rolls as seed starting pots and this winter he showed up at my place with a garbage bagful! Go Rob!

I am also using a coconut coir seed starting mix – one brick makes a good size bucketful. Coconut is a conscientious choice – I try to avoid purchasing unsustainable peat moss-based products. I made markers out of some scrap foam board leftover from framing paintings.

I like to plant in accordance to the cosmos. I use “Stella Natura’s Biodynamic Planting Calendar” as my guide. It is too smart for me, but I do grasp the concept of planting (and harvesting) when the moon is waxing (the gravitational pull on Earth’s water is greater) and waning (when Earth’s water is receding), and even a planetary trine or two. If I am having a “big brain day” I may read through one of the very in-depth essays. Over the course of a few weeks using this guide, I have planted root, leaf, fruit, and flower. Nearly all my seeds have sprouted with the exception of the peppers – I might try adding a heating pad under the tray to encourage them to sprout, or try planting again on a fruit day during a full moon.

Green! It’s green!

Some of these I will have to pot up, such as the tomatoes who prefer warmer days. Some I will transfer directly to the garden such as the Brussels who won’t mind a little chill. Then there are the seeds that I simply direct sow into the garden such as the lettuces, radish, spinach, kales, collards and peas when it is still cool.  Beans, cucumbers and squash I direct sow well after last frost.

I hope this project brings my seed starting to a new level. I also hope it encourages you to start your own seeds if you have never tried, or inspires you to try again if you haven’t successfully raised seeds in the past. Let’s grow!

Seed Love

On Friday, February 8th, my view into the back garden looked like this:

That same day the mail arrived. In it, several padded envelopes addressed to moi. Seeds! More than that this year, Art Packs! I fell in love right then and there at my kitchen table with the beautifully, artfully packaged heirloom seeds from Hudson Valley. Yes, it’s love at first sight. Of course, I love all my seeds, but to have art and seed together is irresistible. I can’t wait to plant.

These tiny packages brightened that day of one of the “wintery-est” of winter storms so far. My heart is warm. My green thumb, itchy.

What’s Growing: Brussel Sprouts

Just this morning I trekked out to the Potager and snipped a few collard leaves for lunch. I sauteed them in oil with garlic, chopped walnuts and a spiced pepper blend. Then gently folded them into some quinoa with goat cheese crumbles.

Kale and brussel sprouts in the Potager under our first snow

I’ve also been enjoying brussel sprouts. I have one more delicious harvest left to savor. I harvest them from the ground up, clipping off the lower leaves as they grow, rather than pulling the whole stalk.

One of several brussel sprout harvests

I am still harvesting kale although my supply is dwindling. I found a wonderful recipe for it – Northern Spy’s Kale Salad. I made it for Thanksgiving dinner and several times after. I rarely follow a recipe exactly and finished off a blend of carrots, parsnips and delicata squash with a touch of maple syrup. I am still harvesting carrots from the garden and enjoy them prepared in what I call “bistro style” which is simply pan-roasted on the stovetop.

“Bistro style” carrots, potatoes & onions

An honest confession: I am afraid to pull my parsnips. Every year I grow parsnips and they just do not seem big enough to pull by Fall so I leave them to over-winter but I never seem to find them again in the Spring. This year their leaves look large enough that there just may be a perfectly beautiful parsnip under there. I pulled one. It was pretty decent. I especially like them mashed, like potatoes, with garlic. My craving will overcome my fear and I will pull every last one next thaw. Any tips you might offer from your parsnip growing experiences would be greatly appreciated.

The cold frame is growing slowly. I have secondary leaves on most of the plants. I should have planted earlier (which I suspected when I finally did get around to planting), as I would now be able to enjoy some of the salad mixes. I could probably cut a little but I am trying to wait just a bit longer until the kales and collards that are growing openly in my garden are depleted. Maybe the Gourmet European Salad Mix (a blend of arugula, endive, radicchio) will have grown a few more inches by then. Hopefully, I will be eating from my cold frame experiment next month.

Our snow has melted. This photo shows the Potager now seamlessly connecting to the Woodland Edge (in foreground) and to a new bed that will continue along our new fence on the northwest side of the garden after a bit of reworking this summer.

By creating a little more space, I can plant an asparagus bed in the Spring – another new experiment – I hope you’ll join me. For now, I will be planting sprouts – indoors.