They began arriving around mid December. They were filling the mailbox like sardines in their tins, and they came with promises. Promises of "BIGGER", "EXTREMELY PRODUCTIVE", "THE SWEETEST YOU'VE EVER TASTED", "STUNNING AND UNIQUE", ...... They promised the stuff of dreams. What, you may ask, are these bearers of glad tidings? Well, it was the arrival of the upcoming years' seed catalogs. HURRAY!!!
While much of the garden lies sleeping under its blanket of snow, these brightly printed, high gloss pages come with yet another promise, the promise of spring. That time of year which prompts the sun to begin it's yearly pilgrimage, its journey to climb, higher and higher, step by blazing step, skyward.
(Alright, I know that it's really the other way around, but I like giving praise to springtime whenever possible).
Lying in bed at night and trying to sleep, I envision a garden painted with all the colors of a rainbow, purple eggplant, their limbs straining under the load of ripening fruits, yellow heirloom summer squash, winding and crawling their way up wooden trellises, sun orange, fist sized tomatoes as sweet as candy, and ruby red peppers that Goldilocks would appreciate - not too hot, not too mild, but just right..... For a gardener, at least THIS gardener, these technicolor dreams are far better than visions of sugar plums dancing in ones head.
With springtime, the days get progressively longer. The growing warmth of the sun heats up the earth, and the ground, which has been frozen and nearly impenetrable, now begins to thaw. The soil is once again becoming workable. This anticipation of springtime brings a few extra beats of excitement to my heart.
With these lengthening daylight hours comes the raking in of a new layer of fresh compost, the trimming of trees and roses and various other chores around the garden that didn't happen last fall.
......OK, OK, I know it's just now February and I live in a zone 5 climate.... spring is still a few months away, but there is nothing wrong with daydreaming.
So back to the seeds. Perhaps one of the most exciting tasks is that of taking those glorious catalogs and all their promises and creating a list of the fruits and vegetables that I see filling this years garden. Then taking that list and sending off the orders and waiting, maybe not so patiently, for the packets of promise to arrive. Those little seeds, those capsules of genetic information that will hopefully, with a little bit of nurturing and a lot of letting them 'do their thing', fill the garden with new life this spring.
For this years garden, I have decided to grow, almost exclusively, heirloom varieties. Heirlooms are those seed that have been open-pollinated meaning that unlike hybrids, seeds you collect from one year will produce plants with most of the characteristics of the parent plant. These plant varieties are also ones which were grown before WWII. Many heirloom varieties were preserved by home gardeners who saved seed from their family gardens from year to year. Other seeds travelled around the world in the pockets or letters of immigrants, which is why, though the tomato evolved in Central America, we have varieties from Russia, Italy, Japan, France, Germany and Kentucky.
The suppliers of these historical seeds that I shopped from this year are Baker Creek Heirloom Seeds @ www.rareseeds.com, Wild Boar Farm Tomatoes @www.wildboarfarms.com, and Botanical Interests @ www.botanicalinterest.com. I was able to pick up all of the Botanical Interest seed packs from our great food co-op here in town www.greatbasinfood.coop .
I remember growing up and applying the fairly accurate theory that when the snow was melted off Peavine Mountain, it was safely time to plant those frost tender plants. In the past, that was around the middle of May. However, due to global warming, oops... I mean climate change, our last frost date now seems to be around the first week in June and since we can get an early killing frost around the first week in September, that leaves us with a fairly short growing season. I am planning on starting 90% of the seedlings inside but still, doing my research and selection, I searched for seeds that had relatively short germination and growing times. Since I am choosing to grow heirloom varieties, I still had hundreds of choices to choose from.
I ordered items like Chioggia beets, a pre-1640 heirloom, named after a fishing town in Italy. Once sliced open, this particular type of beet shows off it's stunning, alternating red and white rings making them look like little peppermint candies. There are several varieties of squash and melons that I'm really excited to grow this season, two of which are the Prescott Fond Blanc melon and the Galeux D'Eysines winter squash, both from France. Then there is the Lakota winter squash. Once a staple food of Native Americans, it boasts of a deliciously nutty flesh. I'm looking forward to a sampling.
A half dozen strains of lettuces, kales and chard seed packs found there way into the mailbox. There are also peppers, both hot and mild, rainbow colored carrots and purple podded peas.
And then there are the tomatoes, the undistputed queens of the garden. I ordered Green Zebras, Yellow Brandywines, Cherokee Purples, Striped Romans and the list goes on. I ended up with a dozen or so variations of these amazing fruits.
All in all, I think I ended up with a couple hundred seeds. Needless to say, way more than I can grow in my small urban yard. However, I am planning on starting all the seeds and growing the seedlings.
So..... around the end of May or the first part of June, I will be having a seedling/plant sale. I think it should be a lot of fun. I'll keep you posted.
Well, I think that about wraps it up for this post; a little daydreaming, a bit of lyrical prose about springtime and a whole lot of seeds.
Thanks for reading,
David
(Next week, I'll be posting on how to grow your own microgreens all year long) Stay tuned!
Nice running into you today. Hopefully I'll find some time to learn about desert gardening this year. I'll keep your blog bookmarked. April
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