Buying seeds is just like getting tickets for a Rolling Stones concert. Well, maybe not exactly, but in either case itâ≈ s good to get them early, before they are sold out. I’ve already missed the boat on one variety, but think I have everything else I need – and some are already planted indoors.
Last year I grew a broccoli-type green called Piricicaba, that I got from Fedco Seeds (www.fedcoseeds.com).When I called them in late March, it had already sold out. Dang. They are the only supplier I know of that sells them, though I suppose that Mr. Google would help me find them if I were really keen on it. Fortunately I got a similar green from Johnny’s Select Seeds (www.johnnyseeds.com or 877-564-6697) called Happy Rich, which is a name I like. Hasn’t made me rich yet, but it does make me happy.
Happy Rich (like Piricicaba) makes broccoli-like florets but not big heads. It is only 50 days to harvest, and is very tasty raw or cooked – unlike broccoli raab, which is bitter until cooked. The stems and leaves are good to eat, too. It produced food until Thanksgiving and it froze well for winter eating.
This year I bought a packet of purple mustard greens, a variety called Osaka Purple. Many mesclun mixes contain a few mustard seeds, and Iâ≈ ve developed a taste for those very spicy leaves, so this year I will sow them in a bed of their own. I got mine at the Boston Flower show from a company called Landreth Seed Co from New Freedom, PA. Landreth is the oldest seed house in America, founded in 1784. Osaka Purple is fast â√˚germination in as few as 4 days and 40 days to harvest.
Also new to me this year is the southern favorite, collard greens. Visiting the diverse seed racks at Gardnerâ≈ s Supply Companyâ≈ s store in Burlington, VT I found them from Botanical Interests, Inc. â√˚another seed company I’ve not tried before. The package says collards grow under more adverse conditions than lettuce or cabbage. They can be picked small for salads or cooked. They produce well in hot summers even though they are related to kale, a cool-weather crop.
Another green I am trying this year is spreen. Its Latin name is Chenopodium gigantium, which tells me 2 things: it is related to the common weed, lambs quarters (and also to quinoa). And it should be a big plant if left to grow tall. The description says this variety, Magenta Spreen, has young leaves “dusted with a beautiful iridescent magenta”. And it says to pick when 6-8 inches tall – I will try it in salads and lightly cooked. I will be careful not to let it blossom and distribute seeds since it is related to a weed. I got it from Johnnyâ≈ s Seeds.
I am planting flint corn this year, the corn that you dry and grind for cornmeal or polenta. Corn takes a fair amount of space, and you cannot crowd it – plant it too close together and you get small ears. Seeds can be planted 8 inches apart in a row, but only one row per 30 inch-wide bed. And instead of one long row, itâ≈ s better to plant 4 short rows for better pollination. I got my seeds from High Mowing Seeds at the Upper Valley Food Coop in White River Junction, VT.
I haven’t planted flint corn before, and itâ≈ s been 25 years since I grew sweet corn, but farmers tell me that warm soil temperatures are critical. The soil must be warm at planting time. I’m thinking of using a “plastic mulch” – laying down a layer of clear plastic before planting.
Clear plastic mulch lets the sun rays warm up the soil directly (as opposed to black plastic which warms up, and then radiates heat to the soil, a less efficient way). I once tested the temperature under clear plastic spread out with the edges sealed off to contain the heat. On a sunny May afternoon in the sixties, it was in the 90s under the plastic. I”ll pull of the plastic before I plant.
I’ve never had much luck growing melons or watermelons. Talking to a seed tester at Johnny’s Seeds in Maine in February, I was told that there is a hybrid cantaloupe/muskmelon that will do in my short New Hampshire summer: Sarah’s Choice F1 hybrid. He sent me a packet to try, so I will.
By the way, the information on Johnny’s Seeds packets is more complete than on any others I have ever found. It says to start (Photo by Johnny’s Seeds) cantaloupes indoors in 3-4 inch pots a month before last frost, and to pre-heat the soil with plastic mulch to get a good start. The soil should be 65 degrees at planting, the pack said. And though I know this for all vine crops, it warns to plant with as little disturbance to the roots as possible.
Sometimes I wish I had an acre of sunny garden so that I could grow everything I wanted, and in quantity. Fortunately, I do not – so I have a life, in addition to a garden!
I recently got a copy of Ed Smith≠s revised and improved book on growing vegetables in self-watering planters, The Vegetable Gardener’s Container Bible (Storey Publishing, 2011), and decided that making one of his containers might be a good thing for a bored gardener to do before the gardening season begins.
Ed Smith has boiled down years of experience into simple language that anyone can understand. He recommends using self-watering containers instead of traditional pots because they do a better job of keeping the soil evenly moist- a key to success, particularly with veggies.
His book explains that plants are mostly water, so they need water to stay healthy. They need it for photosynthesis (to manufacture carbohydrates) and to carry soil nutrients throughout the plant. Ed explains that plants do best in biologically active soils, those that are “teeming with mostly microscopic creatures that supply plants with food, creatures that help them to assimilate food, creatures that help protect plants from predation and disease.” And those critters need moisture.
Water is also needed to cool plants in the heat of summer by the process of transpiration – which is the plant equivalent of sweating. In the process of losing water, “transpirational pull” is created – a force that sucks up water from the ground, bringing along soluble nutrients. Ed’s book explains that “Transpiration is the plant’s substitute for a heart; it is the way a plant moves fluids within itself.” A mature tomato plant in mid-summer can use a gallon of water a day.
Self watering containers have water reservoirs so that plants don≠t dry out quickly – sometimes holding 4 gallons or more. And the bottom line is this: when the soil is too dry, all biological activity stops – both in your plants, and in the microorganisms that nurture and nourish your plants.
The Vegetable Gardener’s Container Bible explains that a light, fluffy soil is essential for growing veggies well in pots. Plant roots and soil organisms need oxygen to thrive, so a fluffy soil does better than a compacted one. Ed’s recipe for success is to make a 50-50 mix of potting soil or peat moss with good quality compost.
The potting mix I bought was a bit heavy with sand, so I modified that recipe a bit: I mixed 12 quarts of potting mix and 12 quarts of compost with 2 quarts of perlite, a heat-expanded mineral that looks like bits of white Styrofoam. Perlite holds water on its surface and keeps the mix fluffy but adds no nutrients.
Ed’s book suggests that you can offer a well balanced diet of plant nutrients by adding blood meal, rock phosphate and green sand to the mix. Unlike chemical fertilizers, these nutrients are taken up slowly by plants, so your plants get a nice even supply. He suggests a third of a cup of each for each 40-quart batch of planting mix. Me? I add a cup of Pro-Gro, an organic fertilizer that has all those ingredients, and a quarter of a cup of limestone.
Big self-watering containers can be expensive. A good quality 40-quart container with a 4-gallon reservoir that will be adequate for a big tomato or 4 peppers will cost you about $40. But you can make your own container if you prefer, and I’ve done so for a fraction of that cost. Here is what I did, using Ed≠s good descriptions and photos.
I bought an 18-gallon plastic storage bin that came with a lid, and a 10-foot section of 4-inch vinyl downspout (enough for 4 bins). I made marks on the inside of the container at the top of the water reservoir, 5 inches from the bottom of the bin, and measured the width and length. I wanted to cut the lid to fit inside the bin at the top of the reservoir, so I transferred the measurements onto the lid and drew lines to guide me. I used tin snips to cut the lid, which, admittedly, is a bit of hard work (a jigsaw might work better).
At the lumber yard where I bought the downspout I asked a fellow to cut some 5-inch pieces for me with the “chop saw” used to cut lumber. He accommodated my strange request and I ended up with perfectly cut pieces (I could have used a hack saw to do the job at home).My planter needed 6 pieces of 5-inch downspout (spacers) to adequately support the lid – now the base of the soil compartment – sitting inside the bin.
To wick the water up into the soil compartment, I cut 2 holes in the lid (each hole a little smaller than the downspout I used as spacers). I attached two spacers right below the holes and later filled them with potting mix. To attach the spacers to the lid, I drilled small holes in the lid and the spacers, and wired them in place. That prevents them from moving. The wicking spacers are perforated – each has a dozen three-eighths-inch diameter holes drilled in it. Lastly I cut a fill-hole in the side of the bin at the top of the water reservoir.
The Vegetable Gardener’s Container Bible is full of good information on growing specific vegetables √ including unlikely candidates for containers like sweet corn and artichokes. I may grow an artichoke or some hot peppers in containers this summer, and then see if I can overwinter them indoors as both are perennial in warm climates. And in the meantime, I≠m making more containers. Give it a try!
Spring in Cornish Flat comes in fits and starts. Warm sunny days are followed by cold rain – or even by snow. Spring is technically here, and I have started a few seedlings indoors (onions, artichokes, peppers, some early greens) but I will wait until April to plant most things indoors. No sense in babying tomatoes for 12 weeks – 8 is enough.
Each year the snowplows dump lots of sand and road dirt onto my lawn. I try to shovel the dirty snow back onto the road before it all melts. I do this because it is easier to shovel it now than rake it later, once it has all settled into the grass. And dormant grass in the early spring is susceptible to being damaged by my rake. It≠s important to wait until the grass is no longer dormant and the soil has dried before raking the lawn.
I haven≠t started pruning fruit trees yet, though the time is ripe. I wait until most of the snow is gone before pruning mainly because it’s hard to set up my ladder and carry off the branches in deep snow. Since I prune professionally, I can’t afford to wait too long – I need to finish all pruning before the buds open up in late April or early May. There is still knee-deep snow around my trees, so I haven’t gotten started anywhere.
I took my bucket of kitchen vegetable scraps down to the compost pile recently and found that the snow was deeper than I≠d thought – I fell through the compacted crust up to my knees. That happened despite some rain and warm days in the preceding days. Spring technically arrived on March 20, but winter in my neighborhood is being a bit feisty.
Many gardeners give up on composting during the winter months. Not me. I keep a 5-gallon pail under the kitchen sink and I don≠t find that it gets odiferous even though I only empty it once every week or two in the winter. Still, my compost pile is far away, and I’ve been wearing snow shoes to get down there. My compost pile is enclosed by 4 wood pallets, the kind that freight is delivered on, and the winter’s accumulation – mixed with layers of ice and snow – is nearing the top.
During the cold months all the microorganisms that would normally breakdown the vegetable matter are resting. No matter. When warm days arrive, the critters will get to work. But unless the compost pile has the proper mixture of ingredients, moisture and temperatures it is a very slow process – a couple of years until it’s ready.
The bacteria and fungi that break down compost need both carbon-and nitrogen-based materials. Good sources of carbon are leaves, hay and most brown matter. Things with lots of nitrogen are green leaves or grass clippings, manure, vegetable scraps and coffee grounds. A little nitrogen added to a compost pile will help to get quite a bit of carbon-based materials to break down.
There are many kinds of microorganisms in a working compost pile. Aerobic bacteria are the workhorses of the process; they require oxygen to live and reproduce. Anaerobic bacteria are the “bad boys”. If your compost smells like sulfur or rotten food, you have bacteria that thrive in an environment that has little or no oxygen. Some gardeners turn their compost piles to aerate them, or use a harpoon-like “compost hook” to create pathways for air. I rarely do either, though I did buy one of the harpoons to see if it made a difference. I didn’t see that it was a worthy investment.
Later this spring, I’ll take a garden fork and poke around in my compost pile. If it’s too wet, I’ll add dry hay or leaves to help dry it out and let in more air. Or I may even turn the pile, moving unprocessed matter to one side and adding some aged manure to speed up the process. At the bottom of the pile there should be some good old compost to use in the garden.
This is also a good time to see where you need to plant spring bulbs next fall. Take some pictures or place tags to show where the snow melts off first, and where you need some early bulbs. I like having early bulbs to herald spring: the earliest white snowdrops (Galanthus spp.), rich blue and purple scilla (Scilla siberica) and glory-of-the-snow (Chionodoxa luciliae).
Crocus are good, too, and some can be quite early – though nothing is as early as snowdrops. Actually, winter aconite (Eranthis hyemalis) flowers can be almost as early as snowdrops. They’re low yellow flowers, though they don’t do very well for me here in Cornish Flat. Instead of multiplying like my snowdrops, they seem to disappear one-by-one over the years. I need to replant some this fall.
In any case, don’t be discouraged by late spring snows or slushy weather. The sun has real strength now, and it won’t be long before we are in our gardens.
I know that spring is on its way, but in my garden spring plants are still buried deep in snow. So I spend time reading and thinking about what I might do later when the darn snow finally goes away. Even if you are starting to see bare earth, it is still too early to do much. I recently attended a nice talk at the Vermont Flower Show by garden designer Jeanne Daniele of Barre Town, VT. She spoke about how to design a “Serenity Garden” and I≠d like to share some of her ideas.
Jeanne Daniele defined a Serenity Garden as an “escape room” – a place where you can go to relax and get away from the outside world. She noted that small spaces are conducive to serenity, and that you will want design something that is quiet and secluded. Begin now, she said, by measuring the space you wish to develop and doing some basic drawings.
If you live on a busy street, Jeanne suggested screening your serenity garden so that you have privacy. Plants are the ideal screen, but they take time to fill in and really do the job. She suggested a fence as a temporary measure – a wooden stockade fence 8-foot tall will certainly do the job. My suggestion? Plan your garden behind the house and away from the road so you won’t need a fence.
But Jeanne said you can plant visually interesting shrubs like lilacs or forsythia in front of evergreen trees to create privacy over the long term. She suggested using 2 rows of plants spaced so that plants in the second row are staggered in such a way as to fill in the visual gaps of the front row.
A thick hedge will do much to minimize the obtrusive sounds of cars and trucks on the street. She also suggested that you can create pleasant sounds to mask the noise of the street. A burbling, re-circulating water feature will create gentle sounds. She also noted that you can install speakers and play a tape of pleasing sounds. I vote for natural sounds, and Jeanne did note that a nice serenity garden can attract birds that will add to the ambience.
Clutter is the enemy of serenity, according to Jeanne. A lovely flower bed filled with dozens of blooming flowers may not enhance your sense of calm if the pattern is too busy. Select just a few colors and types of flowers, and grow them in quantity. Instead of having lots of small clumps of brightly colored flowers, have fewer, larger clumps. Blues, grays and greens are relaxing and soothing. Hot pink or red? They might be lovely flowers, but they can be visually jarring. Plant them elsewhere if you need them.
Where do we go to relax? For many of us it is to the beach or a lake. That makes sense in her framework: there is a vast expanse of blue or green water, and very little clutter. There is sand or rocks, water and sky. Very relaxing. Think of that model as you design your serenity garden.
Repetition is relaxing, too. Forests can be very serene, in part because there is the repetition of tree after tree as far as the eye can see. If you want to develop a portion of your property to incorporate a wooded area, get rid of the clutter. By that I mean get rid of the shrubby, weedy undergrowth and prune off low branches. I find visiting cathedrals very relaxing – they are quiet and have high ceilings. So I like to prune off branches up to 20 feet if I can, creating that same feeling.
Jeanne Daniele explained that the texture and shape of leaves can affect your mood, too. She said that round, fuzzy leaves are very relaxing, but that pointed, shiny leaves are much less so. Most perennials only bloom for a couple of weeks, so selecting plants with attractive foliage is important – the leaves will be there all summer, long after the flowers have faded and gone.
Another suggestion she had was to enclose the space of your serenity garden and have a defined entry point. A gate or an arbor tells visitors that they are entering a special place. We tend to feel most at ease when we have our backs to a wall and can see everything that is entering our space. “It gives us a feeling of reassurance and protection from the outside world,” she said.
In order to have a truly relaxing space we need to have a good place to sit down. You will want something truly comfortable. Stone is cold and hard, so put wooden Adirondack chairs or nice recliners for yourself and your loved ones – or a hammock if you are so inclined.
I find that shade is important for me – after working in the vegetable garden I like to have a cool shady spot to have a cold drink and relax before tackling the next project.
Lastly Jeanne suggested that your serenity garden be low maintenance. If you have to prune and weed constantly, you have the wrong plants, she said. Shady areas are generally less weedy, but select your plants with care to find ones that take care of themselves. Plant densely and mulch to keep down the weeds.
So take some time now to think about creating a special spot, a place where you can relax in serene surroundings.
Most years I am picking snowdrops by early March. Not this year. I have more than two feet of snow on the south side of the house where I’ve planted my early spring bulbs. It’s a nice sunny spot on a gentle hillside, a place where no snow falls off the roof. I’ve read that a south facing slope with a 5% pitch will cause spring bulbs to bloom as early as if they were growing 300 miles to our south, say Philadelphia. I will probably shovel some snow off that bed to speed up the process, but right now there are still snow banks 6 feet tall to climb over to get there. Sigh. I’m so ready for spring.
But I’ve done a few things to hasten spring – at least inside my house. Last fall I potted up daffodils and tulips and let them rest in a cold part of the basement. In mid-February I brought up the first containers of bulbs, and the daffodils are alreadyblooming. In addition to some nice rectangular Italian terra cotta containers (14 x 6 inches, and 6 inches deep that contain a dozen bulbs), I planted up my big cedar window box that I made years ago (and described in a column). It holds 30-40 bulbs and will be a great display.
I’ve gone to three flower shows already (Providence, Hartford and Vermont), and can’t leave any show without purchasing a few things in bloom. I bought blooming pots of crocus and Tete-a-Tete daffodils, those small ones that bloom early outdoors. At the Vermont Flower show I got a new variety of a perennial that I grow, a foamflower (Tiarella cordifolia) called “Lace Carpet” that should bloom well in the shade and spread by root. I’ll have to keep it indoors on a windowsill until the ground thaws.
If you buy a small pot of forced bulbs, think about displaying them somewhere unusual, not just on the dining room table. My favorite way to get a giggle is to place them poking out from a pair of boots. It will cause you – and your friends and loved ones- to do a double take, and then pause to look more carefully. Other places might include in a crock pot or blender on a kitchen counter, or on the toothbrush holder in the bathroom. E-mail me pictures if you come up with something that pleases you. (henry.homeyer@comcast.net) Blooming flowers help me get through the mud season.
Ten days ago I cut some forsythia stems, brought them inside, and placed them in a vase in a sunny window. They are now starting to bloom, even though sometimes it takes three weeks or more for forsythia to wake up and start blooming. The trick for a good forsythia arrangement is to cut stems that have plenty of fat buds and good long stems that will display nicely.
If the snow were not so deep, I would go get some pussywillow stems to force, too. Right now I would still need snowshoes to get to the wild pussywillows near the stream, and since I have other things blooming, I have not bothered to do so. You can wait until the pussywillows are already fuzzy, but doing so now is nicer – you can watch them wake up indoors. Once they look good, pour out the water in the vase and the pussywillows will not change – they will remain just as they are for months. If you leave them in water they will produce pollen and spill it on your tablecloth.
Apple and crabapple trees force nicely, too. March is traditionally the month for pruning apple trees, though it will be late March or April before the snows melt enough for me to get at my apple trees, I think. When you do your pruning, be aware that blossoms form on fruit spurs that are 2 years old (or older). These are short stubby branches – 3 inches long or so – that generally are found on branches that are parallel to the ground, or up to a 45 degree angle to the vertical. Those straight up, vertical branches generally do not produce flowers and fruit.
Over a year ago I asked you, my readers, if I should start a blog, or go on Facebook and Twitter. Most of you suggested a blog, but not to bother with the others. Slowly I have investigated the social media and have started a blog at your urging. To see it, go tohttp://henryhomeyer.wordpress.com. The publisher of my upcoming book, Bunker Hill Publishing, has urged me to twitter, and though I think it silly, you can now follow me on Twitter. Facebook? Not yet.
I like blogging. My weekly columns can only be 900 words, and I often have more to say. Blogging is good for that. And now that I have started seeds indoors and soon will be gardening outdoors, I hope to be able to pass on useful information on a daily or weekly basis that is not related to the weekly newspaper columns. I was a school teacher in the late sixties and early seventies, and I still enjoy teaching. Blogging is just one more way to do so. And sharing info about plants helps get me through the mud season.
Driving down a wooded lane recently, I remarked on the striking contrast between the deep green pines and the snow-white bark of our native white birches (Betula papyrifera). There are several kinds of birches that do well in New England, and I like them all.
White birch (also called paper birch or canoe birch) is probably the most common of our birches. They can grow up to 50-70 feet tall in the wild, but most are not that large; the national champion is growing in Cheboygan County, MI is 107 feet tall and 76 feet across at the top, truly an exceptional tree. In the wild I see them everywhere from the rich soil at the edge of fields to the rocky, sandy soils on cliffs above the interstate highways √ and occasionally growing right out of rock ledges. From what I have read, it is not a city tree and does not thrive in areas with polluted air and water. It does best in full sun.
Before I knew better, I often wondered why I never saw any little white birches in the woods, only trees that were 15 feet tall or more. The answer is this: young white birches do not have white bark. They have reddish brown bark, which eventually turns white and develops the peeling habit that attracts boy scouts looking for fire starting material (it is very oily, and will ignite with a match even when soaking wet and freshly harvested).
Birches are often sold in clusters of threes, and look good growing together in bunches. Unfortunately, they often lean away from the center when growing close together, and sometimes get permanently bent down by wet snows or ice. I’ve seen them cabled together to prevent that. If you want a trio of birches, try planting 3 small birches about 30 inches apart- giving them enough room to grow.
Gray birch (B. populifolia) is sometimes mistaken for white birch, as it has a very similar bark. But as it gets older, the bark tends to become dirty looking, an off-white. But it is tough, and will grow in acid, sterile soils that verge on sand or rock. It is a small to medium sized tree (20-40 feet tall) that is hardy to minus 30 degrees. I see it often in mixed hardwood forests.
Sweet birch, also called black or cherry birch (B. lenta) is another native birch, one that is rarely seen used by landscapers despite the fact that it is a handsome tree, particularly when young and the bark is a shiny reddish brown. Older trees have a somewhat flaky dark color.
All birches are susceptible to a number of pests and diseases including leaf miners, leaf spots, and a variety of other pests. Most of those problems are not lethal, but can be unsightly.
Of all the birches, probably the least subject to pathogens and insects is the river birch (B. nigra). It is a fast-growing tree that can reach 30-40 feet tall in 20 years. The bark of young trees is light-colored and peels freely. Older trees have brownish bark that is≈ deeply furrowed and broken into irregular plate-like scales,- according to Michael Dirr’s Manual of Woody Landscape Plants, my tree bible. River birch is commonly sold as a landscape plant.
I love the yellow birch (B. alleganiensis) which has a shiny bark, first yellowish, then darkening as the trees get older, ending up with a “grayish to blackish brown plates” according to Dirr. I have observed them at the 6-inch diameter size still showing their yellow-gold color with the curly bits of thin peeling bark. It is, according to Dirr’s book, less susceptible to leaf miners than most other birches.
I’ve read about dwarf birch (B. nana), but I have never seen one. I will look for it, as according to Manual of Woody Landscape Plants, it is neatly rounded and only grows 2-4 feet high. It has very small leaves and sounds like a nice, dainty addition to any mixed perennial bed. It does well in moist soil, which I have, and it is hardy to Zone 2 (minus 50 degrees)! Anything that will survive those temperatures has got to be tough. Like most birches, it has leaves that turn a nice yellow in the fall.
So as you study your winter landscape, think about planting a few birches, come spring. They are wonderful in the wild, and can have a place in the garden as well. I grew up with a trio of white birches on the lawn, and have always liked them.
As we lurch toward spring, I rejoice that I am still eating food from my garden. My spirits are lifted when I start a stew by sautéing my own onions and garlic, then adding my whole frozen tomatoes. I grow vegetables not only for the money I save and the flavors I savor: I grow things like onions because they keep well and it makes me happy to cook with my own veggies, especially now, in the depths of winter.
I start onions by seed in early March. Most gardeners plant onions sets, those little bulbs sold in mesh bags or measured out by the pound at garden centers. Not me. I like to start onions from seed because I think I get better and bigger onions that way.
Here’s the deal: onion sets were started by seed last year but grown so close together that they never got to be full size onions – they became those little sets. My onions, on the other hand, will start off life in flats indoors and will be given luxury treatment.
Most members of the onion family are easy to start by seed, including onions, leeks, scallions and shallots. The onion family plants like fertile, loose soil that is rich in organic matter and that stays lightly moist. Very dry or very wet conditions won≠t work too well. None of them compete well with weeds.
I like to start onion seeds indoors in a nice rich planting medium, a 50-50 mix of potting soil and compost. The seeds are pretty small so you will need to take some care in placing them. One easy way is to fold an index card and place some seeds in the crease. You can jiggle them off the card one at a time, or push them off with a pencil.
I don’t make divots in the planting mix for onion seeds (because they are so small), I just drop the seeds on the soil surface, press them down, and sprinkle a little fine planting mix or agricultural vermiculite to cover the seeds. Vermiculite is a heat-expanded mineral that is sold at garden centers and is used to add fluff and water-holding abilities to soil mixes.
Onion seedlings are happy growing an inch apart or even less, so I use containers the same size and material as the 6-packs, but that have no divisions in them. I drop seeds fairly close together – half to three-quarters of an inch apart. That way I get 24- 36 onions per container. Later, when it is time to plant, the plants will separate easily without damage to their roots. I will plant them an inch or two apart, and thin to 3-4 inches by mid-summer, eating the thinnings.
Keep the growing medium indoors lightly moist, not soggy nor dry. After a month of growing, you soil medium may become a little depleted of nutrients. The solution? Mix up some fish-and-seaweed fertilizer and give them a dose once a week. If you have a sensitive nose and are growing them in a space where you spend time, you may want to skip the fish and just water with a seaweed fertilizer as the fish solutions can offend some noses. Both versions have not only the nitrogen, phosphorous and potassium of chemical fertilizers, they also have calcium, magnesium and lots of the micronutrients that a chemical fertilizer does not contain.
Like all seedlings, young onion plants need plenty of light to grow well indoors. I hang fluorescent lights about a foot above the tops of the seedlings, moving up the lights as the leaves get taller. I hang my lights from jack-chain so that I can adjust the height of the lights easily. But the real trick for having good sturdy plants is to give them a trim every couple of weeks. When your plants are about six inches tall, cut off two inches. Repeat as needed.
For years my favorite onion for storage and cooking has been one called “Copra”. Then last fall a rumor was flying around in farming circles that Copra was being discontinued. I was disappointed because it is such a good onion – it’s tasty, and I’ve kept Copra onions from one year until the next year’s onions were ready to start eating. But like most rumors, it turned out not to be true.
There is only one big producer of Copra seeds; they own the rights to Copra, and sell to seed companies like Johnny’s Seeds. That producer has found another onion that they judge to be of superior flavor and saving ability, one called “Patterson”. I have gotten some Patterson seeds and will start some this year to see if they are really as good as Copra – or perhaps even better. I’ll report back next year.
Another way to grow onions and to by-pass the seed starting work is to buy small plants. Most garden centers and many seed companies sell started onions in the spring. They are generally sold in bundles of 50. They often look dried out and miserable, but once in the soil they green up and take right off.
You can plant your onion seedlings outdoors a month before your last frost, and harvest them when the tops flop over in august. Dry them for a couple of weeks in a shady, rain-free spot. Then next winter you can eat your own onions on those gray days when you need something to perk you up. It works for me.
Garden writer Sydney Eddison has been one of my favorite garden writers for a long time. Years ago I wrote that reading her book, The Self Taught Gardener (Viking Penguin, 1997) was like getting advice from a kind auntie who encouraged you to garden and to create something uniquely your own. Since reading that book of hers, I have read four of her others – all wonderful – including her most recent, Gardening for a Lifetime: How to Garden Wiser as You Grow Older (Timber Press, 2010).
This most recent book is a quiet reflection about how Sydney and her friends have dealt with growing older and having less energy, money and time while also having more aches and pains. I’m closing in on 65, and this book speaks to me. I realize that in the years ahead I’ll have to modify my gardens to make them less labor intensive. And, like Sydney, I’ll have to learn to accept imperfections.
Sydney Eddison has written a very personal book, largely about how she has modified her own gardens, and how she has come to realize that getting help in the garden – either volunteer or paid – is necessary as we get older. Her beloved husband, Martin, passed away after 45 years of marriage in 2006. He is no longer available to mow, rake leaves or to cheer her on. She has come to accept the fact that her gardens will no longer be immaculate. Here are some of her tricks and tips:
Simplify the garden palette. Sydney≠s book is about her flower gardens, which I visited in 2001, and which were, at that time, just about picture perfect. She has eliminated many perennials, substituting handsome, low-maintenance shrubs. She has given away plants that require staking and cutting back. She keeps plants with nice foliage, and also eliminates things that multiply too fast, taking over the garden – the thugs, if you will.
One of her older friends decided to grow just 3 colors of flowers – blue, yellow and white. That helped unify the color scheme and eased making decisions about what must go. Giving away favorite plants is never easy, but Sydney says it gets easier with practice.
Make lists, she suggests, and prioritize what needs to be done. If you now need help pruning a massive hedge, decide if you wish to pay someone to do it every year – or pull it out.
Sydney≠s land includes some nice forest, and she praises forest as a place for simple, low-maintenance gardens. Plant clumps of daffodils along a woodland path, and some shade loving plants and you have a garden. Most aggressive weeds do best in full sun, so weeding is less a problem in shade.
Mulch is important: “It virtually eliminates weeding in the flower beds and helps retain moisture in what is otherwise a very dry situation, and eventually the mulch decomposes and improves the quality and texture of the soil.” I agree. She mulches flower beds with leaf mulch, and her soil is as good as any I have seen.
I disagree with her position that edging flower a bed – digging a little moat – is not worth the time. I think edging dresses up a flower bed and keeps the lawn from crawling in. But I am 15 years her junior, so I may see it differently in years ahead.
Sydney’s book The Gardener≠s Palette: Creating Color in the Garden (Contemporary Books, 2003) taught me much of what I know about color theory for the garden. In it, she spent considerable time writing about container gardening, and how interesting plants in pots can add much to a garden or terrace. In her new book, Sydney points out that containers can be a boon to aging gardeners, too. They are easy to install, virtually weed-free, and can be dramatic – but do require more watering than plants in the ground.
As gardeners age, so do their gardens. Sydney writes about losing mature trees that succumbed to age, insects or storms. But, ever cheerful, she points out that sometimes losing a tree is a blessing – it opens up a view, or allows more light into what had become a shady garden.
There are many nuggets of information in Gardening for a Lifetime. For example, I learned that you can cut an overgrown rhododendron, azalea or mountain laurel right to the ground in the spring, and it will send up vigorous new growth – allowing one to start all over. And I will want to try some plants she mentions, including a shrub called Sapphireberry (Symplocos paniculata ) which is hardy in zones 4 to 8.
Most of all, I am encouraged by Sydney Eddison≠s determination, as she approaches 80, to stay in her house and to manage her gardens – because I hope to do the same. She points out that, “Gardens don’t have endings like novels. And as gardeners, we don≠t want them to be finished. In any case, real life works in ways we cannot anticipate and will never understand.” She accepts what life has brought her, and shares her knowledge of making do with what she has in pleasing prose. Whether you are young or old, winter is a good time to read this.
This winter I’ve been participating in a discussion group organized by the Catamount Earth Institute that looks at food and agriculture in America, and what each of us can do to live more sustainably. We’ve been discussing readings from Menu for the Future produced by the Northwest Earth Institute. The readings support my belief that growing some of our own food is important, and that when we need to supplement the garden, we should try to buy locally grown, organic foods.
Here are some interesting statistics from Menu for the Future: For grocery store food, the average item has traveled 1500 miles from field to table. Every calorie of food we eat costs 10 calories of energy derived from petroleum. These calories include fertilizer, tractor fuel, pesticides, packaging and transporting our food.
Grains, vegetables and fruits require less energy to produce than meat because animals generally are fed grain – and an animal is not an efficient converter of its food to the meat that we eat. Thus it takes 68 calories of input to produce 1 calorie of pork that we eat, for example. Still, like most, I eat meat – though probably less than the average American.
Compared to other industrialized nations we spend a lower percentage of our income on food than any other country – roughly 10%. Consumers in Italy spend more than 25% of their income on food, the French 16% and the Japanese about 19%. And why is that, you may ask? Industrialized agriculture in America is subsidized by our government in the form of payments and tax breaks.
We also allow our industrial farms to pass on to us many hidden costs: the cost of polluting our land and water, the cost of health care for low-income farm workers, and the cost to our own health of eating foods that make us fat and unhealthy. Not only that, huge corporations act as middlemen getting more of the money spent than the small family farmer. Roughly 20% of your dollars spent on food goes to the farmer.
So what can we do? Plant a garden. Grow as much of our own food as possible and buy from local farmers, reducing the petroleum costs of transportation. Buying organic foods reduces the carbon costs of producing and shipping chemical fertilizers and the production of pesticides. But organic food costs more at the cash register. And in winter, much of our organic fresh produce, like conventional produce, comes from California, Florida or South America.
So let’s look at gardening. A very small garden, say 10 feet by 12 feet in size, can produce a lot of vegetables, including some that can easily be stored and used long past summer. I planted 12 tomato plants in a 10 x12-foot garden last summer, and each plant produced – by my estimation – 5 to 8 pounds of tomatoes. I ate some fresh, made sauce, but I also froze many tomatoes whole in zipper bags. That’s quick and easy. I am eating and using those right now- I run the tomatoes under hot water, rub off the skin, cut them up to use in soups and stews as I would a canned tomato.
Potatoes are easy to grow and keep. A 3-foot wide bed 12 feet long can accommodate up to 24 plants, each of which will produce 2-5 pounds of potatoes, depending on the soil, variety of potato, and amount of sun and water the plants receive. At the top end of production, one small bed can produce 120 pounds of good organic food! Stored in buckets in a cool spot with high humidity (35-50 degrees with 90% humidity), potatoes can be stored 6 months or more.
I≠ve been growing lettuce all winter in pots on my windowsill and have to admit that the production is minimal. Right now my lettuce, which I started outside in September and potted up and brought inside in late October, is reaching for the sky. The plants are not getting enough light. Since I want to eat with little impact on the environment, I have avoided using artificial lights. There are such things as LED grow-lights which use a fraction of the energy of fluorescents, and I am investigating those.
So why bother with a garden? I want to eat pesticide-free food that I grow myself. Pesticide use on farms affects most severely the people who work in the fields. I care about that. But I also know that washing off fruits and veggies does not eliminate all chemicals, not since 1998 when systemic poisons were introduced. These are chemicals that are sprayed on the soil, seeds or leaves and are incorporated into the plant tissue, killing insects that take a bite.
We can scrub and peel, but if your lettuce or tomato has been treated with a systemic pesticide, you are going to ingest it. Even though the government allows this treatment, I don≠t want to eat those pesticides. No one knows how these chemicals will affect us in 20 years. Remember: DDT was approved for use in the home and garden for many years before the government banned it.
As I plan for my garden now I am keeping in mind what I grow best, and what I can save for next winter. Vegetable gardening, for me, is about eating good food that is healthy, and also about inflicting minimal damage on the environment.
I won’t pretend that when I was a kid I walked to school through drifts of snow or that the local hockey pond (in Woodbridge, Connecticut) froze solid. But all the old timers are saying that this winter is like the winters of yore. Maybe. All I know is that I am starting to get sick of cold and deep snow. So I asked my doc to write me a prescription: Go to flower shows. As many as possible. As soon as possible. Smell daffodils and look at blooming shrubs. Listen to experts talk, hang out with ordinary gardeners. See friends.
The season starts with two major shows at the end of the month: Providence, Rhode Island and Hartford, Connecticut, February 24-27, and I intend to attend both (and will be presenting on Thursday and Friday afternoon at the Rhode Island Show.)
The theme of the Rhode Island Show is “Gardening with Heart”. It is partnering with the American Heart Association and features 28 floral exhibits that link the display with a romantic movie – from Gone with the Wind and Casablanca to Sleepless in Seattle. As always, there are numerous vendors and educational talks. Admission is $18 at the door, $15 for seniors and students, and $7 for kids 6-12. For more info, go to www.flowershow.com. I hope to see you there!
The Connecticut show will be held in the Connecticut Convention Center in Hartford from 10-8 each day except Sunday, when it closes at 6pm. Hope for a thaw before then, as they are offering to test your soil for free – just bring a half cup of soil (let it dry out). The show has more than 250 exhibits/vendors and 8 lectures every day. Tickets are $14 for adults, $12 for seniors, and $2 for kids 7-14. For more info go to www.ctflowershow.com.
The next weekend, March 4-6, has two more shows, including my favorite, the Vermont Flower Show. The theme of that show is “Sweet Dreams”, featuring a Medieval-inspired journey through woods, flowers and a castle. The Vermont Railway Society will have a model train display and there is a room dedicated to activities for children. I hope to bring my grandkids. The show is in the Champlain Valley Exposition Hall in Essex Junction daily from 10-6, or to 4pm on Sunday. Admission is $15 for adults, $12 for seniors, and $3 for students 3-17. More info at www.greenworksvermont.org.
The Central Massachusetts Flower Show will be held that same weekend in the DCU Center in Worcester, MA. It≠s not a show I’ve been to, but I chatted with a representative of the show and it sounds like it≠s a cross between a flower show and a home show. It’s called The Flower and Patio Show, and features many commercial exhibits. Admission is $10 for adults, $9 for seniors, and kids 12 and under are free. For more info go to www.centralmaflowershow.com/
The next weekend, March 11-13, is the Portland, Maine Flower Show at the Portland Company Complex, near the wharves. All tickets are $15 at the door, though advance sales are less. The theme of the show is ≥the Enchanted Earth≈. For more info go tohttp://portlandcompany.com.
Then comes the Boston Show, which runs from March 16-20 at the Seaport World Trade Center. The theme of the show is ≥A Burst of Color: Celebrating the Container Garden≈. It sounds like the problems the Boston had a while back have been sorted out, as the Massachusetts Horticultural Society is back and playing an important role. I recommend going to the show during the week when there are fewer attendees, and you may want to take a tour bus there to avoid the hassles of driving and parking. Tickets are $20, $17 for seniors and $10 for kids 6-17. In addition to the usual floral displays and vendors, this show has competitions for both professionals and amateurs. For more info, go to www.bostonflowershow.com.
Overlapping with Boston is the Norwich, Vermont flower show, called Floribunda, in Tracy Hall, from March 18-20. It is everything Boston is not: small, inexpensive and personal, with easy parking. I love this show. Your $5 admission fee (kids 12 and under free with adult) supports the “Community Projects Fund” of the Norwich Women’s Club. There are 20 vendors with plants, flowers, note cards, art and garden paraphernalia. There is a gala opening Friday night with wine and snacks (call Susan Pitiger at 802-649-1684 for reservations. Tickets are $40 or $75 per couple.)
And then there is the New Hampshire Seacoast Home and Garden show at the Whittemore Center in Durham, NH on March 25-27. With over 200 exhibitor booths, this is as much a home show as a flower show, but the cost is only $8 for adults , $6 for seniors, and $4 for youth 6-16. For more info, go to www.homegardenflowershow.com.
There are other shows, further afield if you wish to travel: Philadelphia March 6-13, Bangor, Maine, April 8-10, and Chelsea, England, May 26-28. But wherever you are, and no matter what your interest, there is a flower show for you. So mark your calendar, and plan to get an early taste of spring.