Calcium Boost

We have just about one more month until the tomatoes go in the ground (though with the 85° temp we hit today, maybe we should bump our target date up a little). Our seedlings were started a few weeks ago and there's no way they'd comfortably make it four more weeks in their little six-packs. So, today was re-potting day. I upgraded the largest of the seedlings to slightly bigger containers using the Future House Farm Surefire Method for Wicked Hardy Tomato Plants.*

First, I made myself an enormous omelet.

Kidding! I actually took a bunch of eggshells we'd been saving and smashed them in to wee little bits.

And mixed them into a bucket of potting soil.

The eggshells are because tomatoes need to have a lot of calcium available so that they can regulate their water intake, or something like that. Last year our tomatoes and our peppers seemed to like having some eggshells, so we figured we'd try that trick again this year.

The real key thing to re-potting tomatoes, though, is to bury them deep. All those little hairs on their stems can develop into roots, so we pull off the first leaves towards the bottom and stick them way down deep in their new pots.

That way, only the top couple of leaves will stick out and the buried stem will grow new roots.

Tomatoes are really affected by water fluctuations, so both the extra calcium and the really deep roots help a lot. Every time we replant the tomatoes, whether in new pots or out in the garden, we bury them at least halfway. They always look a bit pathetic afterwards, but being able to access so much extra water makes them grow like crazy soon after they settle into their new home.



*I just made that up. Our tomato plants were actually killed by a black walnut tree last year.

On a bed of greens

This is our third growing season together and consequently it's our third year growing lettuce. The first year we didn't get to the spring planting in time, but the fall harvest was a boom. The second year saw results that were the complete opposite; the spring planting was on time and plentiful, but the deer and rabbits had their way with the fall sprouts. What has been consistent is that every planting has been direct seed.


This year we reinforced the fence, said to hell with consistency, and started some of the seeds indoors. We were really surprised at how well they did. Out of a tray of 72, only two didn't sprout. If I knew the names of the varieties [Buttercrunch and Black Seeded Simpson --Meg] I'd tell ya, but Meg's at work and she's the wiz at keeping that shit straight. I usually learn food names by consumption. (and I digress) Last week we hardened off our sprouts and Saturday we put them in the ground.

We're pairing this particular bed of greens with poling peas (the ones that survived at least). Last year this bed was a mix of fabulous carrots and failed parsnips. As I was digging the trench to put in the plants and fresh compost I discovered a carrot that managed to go unnoticed last fall.


We made short work of the carrot that evening. It was tasty.

It's been two days since we transplanted our future salads and everything looks great. Hopefully this weekend we can return to consistency and direct seed a bed of lettuce and also get our spinach going as well.

Seedling Boot Camp

Our seedlings have had a relatively cushy existence so far. They live under grow lights, close to a heater, and they get lots of attention and regular water. They are sissies. They would get their asses kicked out in the garden.

Therefore, we need to toughen them up before we let them out into the world. For the past week we've been letting them spend more and more time outside, so that they can build up a tolerance for the sun and the wind. I believe that our cabbages, broccoli, Brussels sprouts, lettuce, onions, and herbs are sufficiently hardened off, so they will all get planted this weekend as long as the weather cooperates.

What's Eating You?

One of the many things we've learned since we started gardening is that with the great joys there are also extreme aggravations. This property can be a real pain in the ass sometimes. Our recent bit of fury comes from a mysterious pest that is eating the pea sprouts.

I think we can rule out groundhogs, deer, and rabbits. There is just too much fence for that to be a possibility. Meg thought perhaps that is was the work of squirrels, but what ever it is, it left the seed. Actually there doesn't seem to be any mammal amounts of digging at all. I did see an ant colony, but it was in another bed all together. I know they're industrious, but would they really travel that far for a little green grub?

If you can't tell, we are at a loss with this one. Now I know the photo of the eaten sprout isn't the best, but it was the best I could do. If any of you have a theory about what it might be, please send a remedy our way.

The first signs of life

And then there was hot sauce.

Game On!

The first tomato seeds sprouted yesterday. I don't know what it is, but there is something about tomatoes from the garden that makes it feel official. We're going to give twelve varieties a go this year. This is our first year growing yellow tomatoes and last night we were talking about how cool it's going to be making yellow sauce and soup.

Please, contain yourselves.

If the rest of you 4-week old spinach seedlings want to refrain from bolting, that would be really great. Thanks. Jerks.

Cause to Celebrate

Today Meg and I have been married for one year. We celebrated the occasion by planting peas.

'Sup, Seedlings?

Have you heard? It's Spring now. You all are going to get evicted, and soon.

You've been hogging the lights and the heat for too long, so you're moving out. The temperatures outside haven't been below freezing in weeks. Just in case, we have a million billion gallon jugs-turned-cloches saved up. You'll like your new place. We raked and pulled weeds, and we even threw fresh compost all over the place. Better start packing.

That grow table real estate is valuable and, while we like you guys, frankly, we like the peppers and tomatoes a whole lot more. And besides, if you hang around in here for too long, we will eat you.

Dill

Last year, as Meg implied yesterday, the herb garden was allowed to go to shit. There were a lot of herbs we had to go without and needless to say we were not pleased. Aside from some sage and thyme, nothing survived the wave of weeds. This year we plan to plant herbs intensively to reestablish the order of things. We hope to grow enough to dry some out in our new dehydrator (should arrive tomorrow).

The other day some of the dill we planted sprouted. It's interesting to learn what plants can be started indoors and which need to be direct seeded. Apparently dill doesn't transplant well and should be started outdoors, but we are so damn hungry for fresh herbs that we figured we'd take our chances.

There's Hope

We love onions. A gardening book of ours suggests that the number of onions to be planted should be around 40 per person. We're guessing that no less than 100 per person will do.

A total of 200 is being very optimistic. We have yet to have any harvest worth weighing. Past plantings were done with sets. The greens looked promising, but the bulbs at harvest time were either rotten or only slightly larger than the set that was planted. This year we are planting from seed as opposed to sets. I've gotta say that this little onion sprout has me about as excited as the first time one of our tomato seeds sprouted. Our goal this year is to make a few big batches of vegetable stock with every ingredient coming from the garden. We've had every part going except for the damn onions; but this little fella's giving me hope.

Let there be light

This is one of two grow tables Meg and I built for last year's seed starting. The materials were pretty cheap (wow, imagine that). We raided the dollar-wood bin for the lumber and I lifted the milk crates from my then place of employment. The lights were the pricey parts of the project; I think they were about $10.00 a piece (two for each table). The dimensions are 18"D x 48"W x 36"H (sans crates).

Where we have the tables stationed in our house has almost as much impact on the seeds as the actual table's construction. They are snug against a white wall with a radiator running beneath them. The wall color and its close proximity help to intensify the brightness and uniformity of the light (I guess). The milk crates and spaces between the bottom boards allow a good deal of airflow from the radiator to the bottom of our heat hungry seedlings. The heat isn't so hot that it dries everything out; this is an old house, the heat sucks at best. However, there is just enough warmth to get things going.

The lights aren't on just yet. We read somewhere that we should wait for the first couple of sprouts to emerge before we turn on the tubes (regular fluorescent). Once the lights are on, we'll lower the chains so they sit about an inch or two above the sprouts and raise them a bit at a time as the plants get taller.

105 Days Until Onions

Tonight we dusted off the trusty grow tables, cleared the spider webs out of our trays, and started some seeds. We used up some bags of crummy old seed starting mix that have been hanging around here for a while; on our next round of seeds we'll go fetch some compost from outside. So far, we've got onions, broccoli, Brussels sprouts, cabbage, and some sage and dill.

Seed Stuff

A couple weeks ago Mike of Tiny Farm Blog posted about a big 'ol shelf in his barn where he stores all kinds of miscellaneous farming odds and ends. We've got a similar collection in a room we refer to as the solarium—it's an odd cross between a mudroom and a hallway, and it's got two nice, big skylights. It houses a big table full of potted plants, our coats, shoes, and chicken food, the big freezer, and our seed stuff. In a month or so our newly-sown seedlings will live under the grow lights and all the potting soil, seed trays, spray bottles, and plant markers will once again be put to use. Meanwhile, everything remains in a big pile on and around the tables—is there really any nice looking way to organize this stuff?

From left to right: potting soil, perlite, etc; shoebox o' seeds; harvest basket; October, Cranberry, and Cherokee dried beans; old clementine crate; produce scale; pirate flag awaiting a new pole; eggshells in a bag; random pots; spray bottle; seed trays; more harvest baskets; and hot peppers hanging to dry. Yikes.