Weather Delay

Today, when viewed from inside, was a beautiful day. Sunny skies, everything bright and green outside. But once you stepped outside, you realized it was much too cool and too windy to be comfortable. Our high was only in the fifties, and currently there is a frost advisory for tonight's clear and cold weather. Despite the cool weather, there was work required for the garden that had to be done today. Many of my tomatillos and tomatoes, planted in soil blocks over the past eight weeks, have grown too large and were starting to show signs of stress: yellowing leaves, roots growing above the soil line. These plants had to be transplanted to larger containers immediately, or they might not make it through the week.

At this time the past over two years, I had been very busy planting in the garden. But this year, the garden isn't even  tilled... And I don't think it will be within the next two weeks. It is still too wet to work. The tractor would simply compact the soil and make it impossible for any plants to grow through. And this is why today's work was so imperative: without transplanting, these plants wouldn't last two more weeks in the seed room. 

So this afternoon, I put all my tomatillos into larger pots. Last year we had 4 tomatillo plants. Today, I transplanted 30 plants, evenly divided between purple and green fruit. I also transplanted about thirty pepper plants that seemed to be struggling in the little plastic cells they were started in. I can't blame them, and hope they grow in their new, roomier homes. I also transplanted about 70 tomato plants. Almost all of the plants I transplanted seemed healthy, and in better shape than plants I grew from seed and successfully planted in the garden the last two years. So, although I am sore, and honestly a little overwhelmed, I feel like we are on track. Once the garden is tilled and I am able to put plants in the ground, things should go like gangbusters! 

I am now more than out of room in the seed room. Not only is all the space beneath the fluorescent  lights taken, but the floor around the set up is now completely packed with plants. And there are more plants in need of transplanting... I may have to start hardening off plants this week, even before the garden is remotely ready for planting. 

It seems that every year the weather, or the plants, provide a new learning experience. Who knew we would get so much rain in April and May that the ground is unworkable. Who knew that I finally got my timing right this year. I planted seeds in enough time for the plants to be viable at the last average frost date (although even that may be off...if it frosts tonight, it would be three days after our general last frost date). And though my tomatillos, peppers, cabbage, and tomatoes are doing great, the eggplants are not. I started about 50 eggplant seeds 12 weeks ago. Right now I have about a dozen plants growing, but they are not very large... And today, I moved almost 40 soil blocks with eggplant seeds that didn't germinate into my leftover soil bucket. I gave up on all those plants, because even now, if they were to germinate this week, they would still be too small to be viable int he garden in June. It was sad, and I realize that I may have to buy eggplant plants if I want eggplant this year. It just goes to show you never really know what will happen with your seeds...

Today's picture are my newly-transplanted tomatillo plants waiting watering, and then one group of tomato plants right after being transplanted. I am growing two varieties of tomatillo and today I transplanted five kinds of tomatoes (Taxi - yellow, Cherry Blend, Principe Borghese, Wapsipnicon Peach, and Puple Calabash). 

I will continue to hope for the garden to dry out enough for it to be tilled. In the meantime, you will find me in the seed room, tending to summer even as this wet spring continues on.

Why I Garden

When I was a boy, my Grandpa had a huge garden in his suburban backyard every year. I remember corn, beans, tomatoes and potatoes growing in the plot that occupied what seemed like a quarter of the yard. I remember him having me climb the fruit tree (was it pear or peach or plum?) in that backyard and passing down the ripe fruit that he then gently put in the large wicker basket. On special days (probably when the afternoon thunderstorms rolled through, eliminating the possibility of any further work outside), I got to help Nana deal with that morning's harvest. She canned, froze, and pickled things from his garden. She made pies and Grandpa made ice cream, and we snacked on fruit and vegetables that had just been picked.

My family didn't always have a garden, but I remember that for a few years before my Dad built the big shed, we had a garden. All I remember from that garden is the corn, beans, squash, and radishes. I am sure we grew cucumber and lettuce and tomatoes and peppers, but maybe that is just my adult bias (I can't imagine a vegetable garden without those things!) I recall crawling between the stalks of corn, weeding, and bringing in armfuls of beans that my sister and I would then string while sitting on the back porch, throwing the ends to the dogs.

By the time I was in high school, the only gardens I knew were flower gardens in everyone's yards. I grew up in Denver, and by the 1980's xeriscapes were common. Although every yard had a lawn, people were encouraged to plant native plants to save on water consumption. By this time, home-grown produce was a special treat, but the bulk of our produce was purchased at King Soopers and was generally frozen. When I went to college, in Nebraska, I was amazed at all the farmland. Endless miles of milo, soybeans, and wheat. There were long miles along I-80 that stank of pigs and cows. Or at least their feces. At times, I viewed the drive from Denver to Hastings as nothing but seven hours of industrial waste. And none of it looked edible.

In Chicago, in the early 1990's, I worked at a great cafe that is still around, Uncommon Ground. The cafe had a fairly set menu, but soups and quiches revolved around fresh produce the owner would bring from the farmers' markets in Western Michigan and northern Indiana. It was there I really learned how to cook with fresh produce, and the absolute joy of eating in season. The fresh taste and variety of the produce got me hooked. I learned how to use fresh herbs. I finally understood that a tomato from the store in December is nothing like an August tomato.

Ever since then, I have grown plants. Maybe it was only a basil plant on my kitchen window sill. Maybe it was berries in our dark Chicago backyard. Tomatoes on the front porch in Denver. A yard full of veggies in the Baker District of Denver, and all the meals shared with friends in that wonderful backyard in the ghetto!

I haven't bought a tomato at a grocery store in years. It just isn't worth the money. If they're not in season, I buy canned. Luckily, this year, we didn't even have to buy many cans, as we only recently ran out of tomatoes I canned last summer and fall. In the freezer, we still have tomatoes, ready for a soup or sauce. We are still eating frozen peppers from last year's garden. Ground, dried peppers as spice. Pickled peppers on sandwiches. I know the quality of much of the produce I eat. I know there is nothing genetically-modified about it. And the taste is unbeatable.

There is no going back. In fact, now that we grow a lot of the vegetables (and a good portion of fruit) we eat, our goal is to grow more. Eventually we would like chickens and goats. Maybe sheep and pigs. Already much of our meat was raised and slaughtered locally. I want my food to be as pure as possible. Grown locally, without pesticides and without chemicals. I know I can't meet this goal perfectly. But I will do what I can. It is more work. Today, on a cool and rainy day, I spent a few hours in my seed room. Transplanting cabbages. Starting some late-arriving peppers (Purple Jalapeño, something I know I couldn't find anywhere else) and basil. Already, my garden takes up at least an hour a day, with watering in the morning and evening. And weeding the raised beds where the peas are growing among spinach and lettuce and radishes. And come fall, when the harvest is in full gear, it can be exhausting trying to pick and then process all of that produce. On those days I remind myself how amazing this work is going to taste on a snowy January day, when our dinner tastes as fresh as it would in September.

This is why I garden. It is food for my body, work for my body. It is meals shared with friends. It is a continuing fight against corporate ownership of our food. It is knowing the food I eat and serve to my friends is truly healthy, and not laden with chemicals, plastics, and poisons. It is feeling part of the local food movement. Every time I work in the garden, I learn something new. It is becoming aware of the affects that weather, climate, soil, and animals have on our food. It is the memory of the gardens of my childhood.

The pictures below: 1.) Purple Jalapeño seeds in soil blocks. I didn't cover them as I read that exposure to light will speed germination. 2.) A newly-transplanted cabbage plant. 3.) A flat of tomatoes in soil blocks, climbing every day!

Herb Fest

Yesterday we went to the annual festival put on by local gardening and horticultural groups in Mattoon, the neighboring town to Charleston. It's called Herb Fest. Being from Colorado, the word "herb" still has a different primary meaning than culinary plants, but beyond semantics, the festival is a highlight of spring. The day was cool and rain was falling, but the turnout seemed robust. I was looking for a few plants I have been unable to grow successfully from seed: thyme and oregano. The nice Amish folks we bought sage and rosemary from two years ago were there, and we decided to pick out four different plants for the herb garden. I picked up a nice variety of thyme called "Porlock". It had the thymiest scent to its healthy leaves. We picked up a Lady lavender plant... I haven't been able to grow lavender from seed either. I was thinking about buying another oregano, but they didn't really have any cool varieties, so Rich suggested we try two new herbs. He picked out patchouli and I picked out lemon verbena. I didn't know patchouli was even a plant. The one we picked out looks a little rough-for-the-wear (but I think it will come through just fine)... the plant is about four inches tall, with quarter-inch diameter leaves that are dark green and rough to the touch. And rubbing the leaves definitely releases the unmistakeable scent of patchouli. I am thinking that it will add amazing scent to our homemade bath salts. The lemon verbena smells just awesome...so lemony and yet so green. I will use it for both cooking and for other things (infusing alcohol and adding it bath salts, for starters) as well. Rich had said we'd spend just ten dollars, and these plants were $2.50 each, so we were good. On our way back to the car, we passed the Master Gardener's stall where we bought the really cool Rattlesnake Master plant we have growing outside our kitchen window. They had a huge selection of perennials and we were drawn to these cool-looking Torch Lilies. We bought two. I was glad we bought a couple of new plants, as that's the main reason I like to go to Herb Fest. On the way out, I did see some really cool oreganos (one was an almost sea-foam light green color), but we had already spent more money than we had meant to... I am looking forward to planting these six new plants and hopefully watching them thrive!
Below are pictures of the Torch Lilies, Lemon Verbena, then Patchouli.

Rain, rain, rain

It rained all day today. Over the past few weeks, we have had a lot of rain, with today's half-inch, the total for April is 8.5 inches. Things are wet, soggy, and very, very green. The plum and early apple trees turned their blossoms out this morning. In the raised beds, the peas are several inches tall and looking hopeful. (Last year, after I planted 500 pea seeds, I was left with zero pea plants due to the early heat.) This year, we haven't had much heat. We woke to frost a few times this week. Nothing major...but winter has definitely been hanging around longer than it did last year. The garden still isn't tilled. I am not sure when that will happen... I can't imagine a tractor being able to make the rounds without getting stuck in the muck. So we wait to get busy outside.

But inside, things are growing very well in the seed room. Not everything has germinated yet, but every morning when I water, I am greeted by new plants unfurling their leaves under the lights. There is a tomato forest (see the picture below), and the second picture is of the gorgeous little salad burnett plants. I just love the shape of their leaves. The third picture is a close-up of some of the tomatillo plants (purple and green!). I love the fuzzy stems on the tomatoes and tomatillos... Today's last picture is of some of the lettuce I have growing in the seed room... it is definitely looking like leaf lettuce to me. Every time I water it, I imagine pouring olive oil and balsamic vinegar on it, tossing it with some salt and pepper, and eating it.

Brussels Sprouts

Well it seems I can't grow Brussels Sprouts. Granted, my seeds were one and two years old, but 100% of them germinated, and they all got more than two leaves. And then they all just wilted and died. Damping off, I believe. The second year in a row that this has happened. The first year I tried to grow Brussels Sprouts, I actually got them large enough to transplant them into the ground, where they were killed by cutworms. But at this point, I feel that these are a variety of plant that it is just impossible to grow.

These types of setbacks I am becoming used to the more I farm.

That said, my 2013 farm is doing alright so far. Last week when I planted out in my raised beds, I had been under the impression that we would be getting a few days of rain over the course of the week. None of that rain fell. But, knowing those seeds had just been planted and hopefully uneaten by birds, rabbits, cats, or dogs, would chill out, waiting for the rain. It is now predicted that up to 3" of rain will fall this week, in warm weather thunderstorms... if that comes to pass, those seeds should be pushing out of the ground by this time next week.

Life in the seed room, Brussels Sprouts not withstanding, is going well. I kept the heat off while I was out of town, and our friend kept the seedlings and the soil blocks watered. But not too much grew. A few of the eggplants have now pushed out. Some of the tomatoes and peppers have grown third and fourth leaves. The cabbages are starting to look like cabbages, and the lettuce and mesclun are looking fantastic. And today I started four more flats of seeds... peppers, tomatoes, ground cherries, hollyhocks, lovage, salad burnet, and more tomatillos. Over 264 plants started in the seed room today, along with about 64 giant parsley plants I direct-seeded in a new plot next to the herb garden. I am expanding the size of the garden once more this year. If all goes well, you all will be able to enjoy this garden this year.

As I write, the window in the living room is open, and the southerly breeze has just turned cool... we are supposed to get several days of periodic thunderstorms. Today was over 70 degrees, and after a morning and afternoon doing garden work, Rich & I went to our friends, Sam & Kate's, for the season's first BBQ and bags... it was heavenly.

Below, pictures of a few of the seedlings (cabbages, lettuce) taken on Tuesday... Happy Spring, and it looks like I will be buying my Brussels Sprouts once more.

Spring under Snow

Last Saturday was gorgeous: sunny with temperatures in the upper 50's. I took the opportunity to get out in the garden and get it in shape for the upcoming season. I pulled out the cages, trellises and stakes I used last year. I piled up and composted the zinnia and okra stalks, and pulled up and composted the tomato, pepper, and eggplant skeletons. And I dug up and composted the rotting cabbage leaves. (A few days later I discovered that we have a very large groundhog living in the barn, and feasting on those cabbages... We're thinking of calling him Hutton Harry...) I also weeded the raised beds I never got a chance to deal with last summer, and filled them with sheep manure I got last fall. (The raised beds are in the first picture below, and the garden in the second.)

The next day we got an early spring blizzard: about twelve inches of snow fell Sunday covering everything in a heavy, drenching blanket of white. I spent a snowy snowed-in Monday building soil blocks and starting eggplants in them. Checking on the Brussels sprouts, cabbages, lettuce, basil, tomatoes, peppers, and eggplants growing in the warm seed room.

This Saturday is supposed to be warm (upper 50's) and will be a perfect day for me to start some cool-weather crops in the raised beds: peas, lettuce, beets... I can not wait!

Growin' of the Green!

It's a cold and blustery St. Patrick's Day promising snow. In the seed room, it's still warm & humid and smells lovely: of soil and little plants. The Brussels Sprouts and cabbages that are up are nearing two inches tall. (See the pictures below...) Lettuces and basil are beginning to grow like gangbusters. The peppers, tomatoes, and eggplants I've planted haven't germinated yet, but I expect them any day. Looking back at last year's garden journal, it seems this spring is so far more typical: cooler and wet, so things outside are coming up slowly. Last year at this time, it had been so warm that I was already feeling weeks behind. Right now, I am feeling like I am right on track: plants growing in the seed room, the garden still untilled and dormant. Soon, though...maybe after this upcoming week of cold weather, the farm will burst alive and I will be out there, making food. I can't wait!