Showing posts with label planning. Show all posts
Showing posts with label planning. Show all posts
A successful garlic experiment
Last year I was a wee bit short of garlic. I ended up with 80ish heads, when our goal is generally closer to 100+. I couple of things contributed to this--obviously I didn't quite plant enough bulbs--but also I had purchased a few "fancy" types from the market to diversify my crop a bit, and NONE of them survived the winter. Lesson learned. Also: our pickle production has been HUGE the last few years, and I forget how much garlic you use in every batch.There was a bit of hoarding and skimping of garlic over the winter--I had resigned myself for buying garlic for the first time in YEARS, but we actually made it thanks to a hefty load of scape pesto in the freezer. We limped along until this year's scape harvest, and I've been nicking a few baby green garlics out of the garden here and there.
Anyway, last fall's planting had a little more pressure to get it right. I had to walk a balance of saving enough for planting, and having enough to mostly get us through the winter. Then I had this idea. There was a "plant". A sort of chive, sort of not, at the end of one of my beds. I realized somewhere along the line it was a garlic that I had missed one year, and it just kept coming up, making tasty snippings for dinner, and then teeny tiny little scape heads in June. So I kept it, as kind of a volunteer pet plant (other people have these right? That weird arugula patch growing in your pepper patch you just can't stand to pull?
So last year, we revamped that little bed for strawberries, and I dug that sucker up. TONS and TONS of tiny garlc bulbs. I wish I had taken a picture. It was like a little garlic factory. SO, this was my secret weapon last fall. I planted half of my bed (about 75 bulbs) with big fat mature garlic from the last season's harvest. The second half was chock full of wee baby bulbs. I figured, at worst, they'd be tiny but edible, or I could replant them again and build them up to a larger size in a year or two.
And they've done fantastic. They've been noticeably shorter than the main crop, but I've pulled a few for fresh eating over the last few weeks and they are a nice size. Today I lifted them all out and they are awesome. I will definitely be integrating these little troopers into my main crop. It looks like I may have harvested them a little late so they may not store all winter, but I'll definitely hang onto a few to plant this fall. I should note my main crop is just selected from an unknown variety--probably organic grocery store garlic--and they are dependable if not exciting. I am happy to have these little red-skinned cuties to add to the mix.
I'm totally going to cultivate a few intentionally neglected plants in my herb bed from now on. It's the perfect fall-back garlic to cover for a poor year. Meanwhile my "main crop" doesn't seem quite ready. They still have 6 green leaves and are just turning brown at the tips, so I'm leaving the rest for another week or so.
0-2 weeks to last frost(!) - Some tips on early spring planting
As is fairly normal for this time of year, we've had a rollercoaster of weather the past two weeks. When the temperature dropped into the forties with rain, most of my plants came back inside for an extended break, and I bunkered up as well.
Inside the hoop house, spring plants loved it though. They didn't get the rain, but the cool, grey days were perfect for spinach, salad greens and peas. This week I had to start adding support to the indoor peas, while their outdoor counterparts are all of an inch high.
But the pendulum swung back the other way this week, we're at nearly 70 degrees as I write. I semi-opened up the hoop this week--rolled up the sides and took out a few side panels that were getting in the way of my snap peas. For the most part, the plants inside now are tolerant to light frosts, and are less happy when the temperature climbs to 100+ degrees. Also, with the sides up I can install my gutters and take advantage of that rain!
Last week I was talking to a woman who works with local farmers, and she was saying that the window of opportunity for spring planting was frustratingly small this year. We'd have a couple of nice days, then lots of rain, and they couldn't get their tractors into the fields. It made me realize that home gardeners have an advantage for sneaking in early crops. Still, dealing with wet soil can be an issue. I have a couple of tricks:
1. Prep beds in the fall. I turn my compost piles in the fall, and give all available beds a nice layer of compost and a mulch of leaves. For beds that will have bedding plants, I don't have to do anything in the spring--just move some mulch out of the way, and plant. This is great for broccoli/cabbage and onions, who are often ready to plant when the weather is wetter. One note, I am observing some slug issues with the leaf-mulched beds where I did this, they apparently can also be cozy spots for critters to overwinter.
2. The 2-step turnover. I know the latest trend is minimal working of soil--a lot of folks go the no-till route, and some say not even to turn compost into the soil at all, just let the worms do the work. I've never had or used a tiller, but I do like to dig a bit in my garden. Sometimes I have late fall plantings that don't get fed before winter--I'll have a pile of compost on the side of a bed that needs distributing. And also, I confess, turning over soil with a shovel is a distinct pleasure for me. I love the physicality of the process, and the sight of bits of eggshells and mysterious half-composted bits, fat worms and thousand-legged bugs. I love how the robin follows me around, snatching treats when I turn my attention elsewhere for a minute. So despite the slight risk of bringing weed seeds to the surface, I still do a bit of shovel work.
3. The cheat. When I want to plant tiny, fine seeds (such as lettuce or carrots), or the ground is just too wet to work, I spread a little potting soil. In this spot, I had beds prepped for beans, but wanted to add a few rows of lettuce and arugula around the outside. I pulled back the mulch, and spread some leftover soil mix. In this case I recycled some empty (i.e. failed) pots from my seed starting extravaganza.
This works great for folks who use lasagna-style gardening, and have heavily mulched beds. It just gives the seeds a nice layer of fine soil to sprout in. It's also not likely to have weed seeds, which gives more delicate plants a nice head start. (Ahem, in my hoop house I spread some lovely fine sifted compost before planting carrots, and ended up with a cover crop of lambs-quarters, darnit!)
So here we go! There are currently no days below 44 in the Madison 7-day forecast, and I'm getting pretty optimistic that we are past a danger of a hard frost. I'm still waiting on planting my heat-loving peppers, eggplants, and tomatoes, and am holding off on cucumbers and melons. But, I did seed some beans yesterday, and my zucchinis as well. My fruit trees are getting ready to bloom, the grapes are breaking bud, and all the birds are telling me spring is here!
6 weeks to last frost: Gardeners, start your tomatoes!
Sorry I'm a little late on this one, but then again, so is the weather! We've had a crazy week which included some good news, some bad news, and these little guys, which are pretty distracting.
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| Sturdy Roma tomato: this is one of a few I started early to go in the hoop house. Confession: I also started my basil early. |
I don't have a ton to add about starting sets at this point, except to mention that if you have been seeding all along, this is the stage where you have the most work cut out for you. Learn from me: don't have 17 flats of plants to take care of(!!). But even with a few, you are watching the latest germinators, adjusting light heights, checking older plants for moisture levels, and maybe even hauling flats outside to get some real sun on some nice days (or if you have a cold frame or hoop, most days). But it's also the stage where you start to see the rewards of all that labor. Look at those sturdy plants! You can almost imagine your future garden beds filled with all these babies you started yourself.
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| Look at all those peppers! |
10 weeks to last frost (give or take) - how much to plant?
Depending on your variety and seed packet, eggplants and some hot peppers are sowed between 8-10 weeks. Last year these were slow starters for me, and although I have fresh seed for several of them I went ahead and started most of them on the early side of the range.
As these are heat-loving plants, and our house is at a chilly 60-something degrees, I wrestled my heat mat away from my home-brewing husband and put it under the flats to help with germination. As I'm cheap and only have one small mat, I stack flats, and rotate plants out as they sprout. Our bathroom is also for some reason the warmest room in the house (plus bonus humidity!) so I've used that in the past-- there are lots of other low-tech options for boosting heat.
While it can be a little torturous to start thinking about preserving before your seeds have even sprouted, I find this is a good, realistic time of year to assess what you've been eating. At the beginning of winter, you are using up fresh stores, and possibly hoarding some of your more precious preserves. But by March, I think you have a better sense of what's left on your pantry shelves, and if those high summer ideas for meal plans are holding up in reality. Are you craving green vegetables on your plate, or are you happy with the starchy, rooty, carb-laden comfort foods of winter? Is your tomato shelf surprisingly full, or are you already skimping on opening jars of salsa?
So, back to the numbers game: how many seeds to start? My rule of thumb is 50-100% more than you want. For example, if I want 2 tomato plants of a specific variety, I start 3 or 4. That allows for a dud germination, plus a spare plant in case of calamity (death by frost/hail, or a being stepped on by a dog). I usually end up with a flat's worth of spare plants at the end of the planting season, but there are always friends/neighbors to share with, or a food pantry or community garden that would love to take them. It also lets you select the best/healthiest specimens to plant. If I have a notoriously poor germinator (for me, parsley) or older seeds, I will double-up on the seeding to make sure I have enough starts, you can always thin out your pots later.
And, just because it's freezing cold and snowy out, one last summertime photo to remind me what this is all about:
Seed Starting - Alliums
I used up my last storage onions last week. If I can't quite grow enough to last me until the next year's harvest (or chive season!), at least I can make it to the next year's sowing!I started growing onions from seed about 4 years ago. Previously I purchases bundles of plants from our local garden center, but decided I wanted the variety control and price savings of growing my own. Plus: they need starting 10-12 weeks before planting out, which satisfies my craving for growing, and keeps me occupied until I can start the fun crops later. Also, per my extension office*, onion sets (the little bulbs you see at groceries and seed stores in spring) are not as good to use:
Planting onion sets is not recommended for market-quality onions. Sets are the second year’s growth of storage varieties or multiplier onions and therefore tend to be less sweet than other onions. In addition, they may bolt or go to seed early.
Using three fingers as a "dibble", I poke 15 holes in each cell, and drop a seed or two in each. Allium seed does not keep well--especially hybrids--so if you are re-using last year's seeds it may pay to plant extra. You can always thin later. This year several of my (new) fedco packs were held over from last year, and they gave me extra, noting a 75% germination rate. So I double-seeded those quite a bit.
This is a little bit tedious, but three or four flats is a ton of onions (well--180 or so plants per flat!), and I can seed them all in less than an hour. If you were doing this commercially, it probably wouldn't be worth it, but at this scale I find it manageable. Onion sets can be $8-10 for 50-75 plants at our local garden center, and a seed pack (well more than a flat's worth) is less than $2! I label each flat with some masking tape, cover with a plastic lid or a bag to hold in moisture, and put them someplace relatively warm to germinate.
In around a week you'll start spotting seedlings, at which point move them under your lights.
Alliums don't like to dry out, so try and keep them evenly moist. I generally water from the bottom for these. After a few weeks you can feed with a mild organic fertilizer, or some compost tea.
There's some debate whether or not to trim plants to promote thicker stock. I've done it both ways. Mostly, I think trimming is useful if plants are getting leggy and tipping over, or they won't fit under the lights! Experiment a little and see what method you like. It definitely doesn't hurt to trim them. Our extension office recommends trimming to 5 inches at planting time, which encourages root establishment.
The reason I like this size flat insert is that when it comes time for planting, I just carefully tip one pack out at a time, and gently tease apart the plants--their roots will be intertwined but they are surprisingly cooperative to untangling. Individual plug cells were a total PITA to transplant (poking each cell from below with a pencil to get them out, arg!), and whole planted flats meant that I had to plant them all at once or have an awkward half-flat leftover.
*By the way, I've probably mentioned our University Extension office a lot in these last posts, they are an excellent resource. I find that publications aimed at market growers are super valuable for serious home gardeners, with a little adjustment for scale. There's an entire series of PDFs available for free on growing vegetables in Wisconsin, and much of what I've learned about Onions is from this one: http://learningstore.uwex.edu/assets/pdfs/A3785.PDF. They include information from seed starting through to harvest and storage, and are of course appropriate for Wisconsin climate/soil types.
12 weeks to last frost
I hesitate to start a post with a title like this--it suggests I'll have a series. It could happen!? In fact, I've already split this into two posts, so I could start with a general overview of seed starting.
In Madison, our average last spring frost occurs right around mid-May. Frost dates are funny little statistics. I found a good map of Wisconsin climate data here, at our extension office. If you want to get all weather-nerdy (as I do) you can find charts with the percentage chances by date. For instance, after May 10th, there is a 50% chance of frost, and after the 27th, there is a 97% chance we will not have below freezing weather. Cool, right?
If you're not in Wisconsin, you can do a quick google search for your frost dates by zip code, but check a few sources, I found a lots of variations between commercial sites. Look for USDA data, and compare it to your own observations about your local micro-climate. My little protected south-facing yard warms up pretty fast, so I tend to trust the slightly earlier dates. If you've gardened for a while, look back at your notes from previous years. Last year? We had frost right up to May 12th, and the way things are going I think this spring will be a slow start too.
So, a few very basic overview details on starting your own seeds--I'll be more specific in later posts. I use a very basic setup: traditional flats and cell inserts (plastic), and a purchased seed starting media. If your preference is homemade mix and soil blocks, even better. Use what you like!
I also wash, reuse and re-purpose miscellaneous pots for many years. There is some concern regarding transmitting disease but I have not yet had a problem.
My light setup is a utility shelf with regular shop lights stolen from the basement where they are used the rest of the year. I try to have one warm and one cool bulb in each fixture, and am slowly investing in gro-lux bulbs (one for each). Once sprouted, I have flats as close to the light as possible, and I rotate around as needed to keep similar sized seedlings together. With a simple 2-bulb fixture, I do end up rotating things a bit for even growth. Some might find this tedious but for me, spring sets are all about puttering.
Just a last note: this is my setup which has evolved over 10-15 years--it started out WAY smaller--one or two lights, a few flats, and lots of practice. I find it fun, I know not everybody has the time or space (or inclination), and buying sets is a perfectly fine option. But if you are yearning to have something green indoors to remind you that spring is indeed coming: don't worry about having the perfect equipment to start with, and go for it!
The tomato report 2013 (or, lets hear it for the little guys)
I wouldn't say this year is a banner
season for tomatoes. But I'm not complaining! It's been an
outstanding year for so many things, I think it might have been too
much to deal with 20 pounds of tomatoes at a time. It's been a
mostly cool summer around here, and fruit has come in slow but
steady. I am getting near to hitting most of my preserving goals (I
even made ketchup last week) and barring unforeseen calamity the
usual end-of-season harvesting should get me enough salsa and canned
tomatoes for the year.
I have heard a fair amount of
complaining from local gardeners about the late start. It was pretty
cold in May, so if people were hesitant to plant, their harvests have
come in pretty late. Some are just starting to get ripe fruit in
mid- to late- August! Here's my tip to finicky-climate tomato
growers: Diversify!
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| A pretty good representation of this year's harvest proportions |
The small-fruited plants I grow, mainly
plums (I have roma, principe borghese, and black plum this year) are
truly the backbone of my operation. If I only grew long-season large
fruit, I'd never have enough volume to preserve until very late in
the year, if at all. I love a juicy brandywine tomato, and some
years they lead the pack by weight harvested, but in years like this
I didn't see a big pink beauty until August 25th. The
first Roma and Principe (not even in the hoop house, mind you) were
picked on July 9th! These little guys are also extremely
prolific, and excepting tasks that involve peeling them in great
quantities, they are a perfect all-purpose tomato. We dehydrate,
sauce, ketchup (is that a verb?) and of course EAT them in just about
everything. I've even peeled them for salsa, but it gets a little
time-consuming.
My second tip for short season growers
is: start (a few) early—and maybe a few late.
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| 7 plants, neatly trellised via the weaving method. |
I started about a half-dozen tomatoes
inside about 3 weeks ahead of the rest. The plan was for these to go
in the hoop house early: which they did. I planted two of them in
hoop house in mid-April (somehow I have lost the date!) and they
spectacularly died on a 19-degree night on April 20th.
(There's a small chance I could have saved them with an additional
layer of protection, but the forecast was about 10 degrees off that
night...) Anyway, they were replanted on April 27th, and
one of these early plants also went into my outside garden on May
13th. Both the hoop (Principe) and outside plant (Roma)
produced their first ripe fruit on almost the same day. They are
both 75-85 day varieties. Interesting!
The lesson I learned from this is
starting plants early really does help, but then again, who wants to
babysit 20 tomato plants for 3 extra weeks? My inclination is to
keep starting a few early: I don't need all my fruit ripe in July,
just enough for fresh eating and a few BLTS. The rest of my plants
were started March 29th, and planted mid-May, and I've been quite happy with
their performance. Having a few extra plants to start early also
makes me a lot more patient with planting the rest of my crop.
Also—I stuck a last leftover Speckled Roman in the
ground really late, and have been very happy with a robust plant
fruiting up when the first main harvest wave is over. Staggering
plantings can really help with a changeable weather year: last
season when we had an extended 100 degree heat-wave my plants stopped
setting fruit altogether. I had friends who planted really late and
their tomatoes were happily growing vines during this hot spell, and
proceeded to produce a bumper crop after the heat broke while mine
were still recovering. Unless you want all your tomatoes ripe in
the same week (I don't!), both staggering plantings and diversity of
varieties can spread out your harvest, and mitigate the effects of
bad streaks of weather.
And as for that hoop house?
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| 2 tomatoes on the left, not trellised neatly at all--pretty much one massive bush. |
My assessment after two hot-seasons of
growing, is that the hoop doesn't really extend my tomato season that
much. Because of it's small size—and our specific spring climate—I can't see
getting them in the ground more than a few weeks early—and I've
done that in my regular garden just with a few improvised cloches.
They might extend later in the season, but realistically I need to
pull plants in October anyway to close up the hoop and plant for
winter.
BUT, again, I am not complaining about this.
The difference between plants grown in the hoop and outside is
staggering. The plants grown under cover are GINORMOUS. They are
lush and chunky, even with pruning are several times the physical
leafy volume than my outside plants, and their yields are much
higher. So far I've limited myself to 2 plants a season—they just
get too huge to fit more in there if I want to grow peppers and
cucumbers and more—and keep my planned rotation in the beds. I'm
still playing around with my varieties: this year I have a plum (the
principe) that is outstanding. The second, a Cherokee purple, is my
first attempt at a full-size fruit inside. It is healthy and pretty
prolific, and I'm looking forward to good eating tomatoes well into
the fall. I might try, next year, one of my big paste tomatoes to
see how it does. I've also jokingly thought of putting ALL my
tomatoes in there some year, ha. I generally grow 14 plants, and I
could probably get the same harvest with 7 inside. Maybe one year I
will try it.
Varieties grown this year:
Amish paste
Black Plum
Brandywine
Cherokee Purple
Italian Heirloom
Italian Roma
Principe Borghese (pole)
Speckled Roman
Sun Gold (Cherry)
On incremental gardening.
Its the time of year when gardeners are feeling the pinch. As you rapidly approach the magical date of the average last frost you are eyeing your seedlings, re-checking your garden plan (and if you're like me, making last minute changes), and obsessively checking the NWS for the 7 day forecast of nighttime lows.I feel it, but often on the days where I panic about not having enough time (or good weather), I also realize its all broken down into manageable parts. Kitchen gardeners with a wide variety of vegetables are really at an advantage. This is one reason I really like having a raised bed garden--though really any garden divided into sections has the same benefit.
Some work is already done in the fall. Garlic (should be obvious in the photo above) comes up all on its own, after being planted in October. The rest of the beds had compost, leaves, and grass clippings piled on for their winter's nap. First bed to be prepped in early spring (in front of garlic), is an onion patch. Next up, on the far left corner (and elsewhere), a few beds for potatoes were made ready, along with one for peas, and another for early greens. The hooped bed on the left is broccoli and cabbage, which went in a little later. Lastly, there's a bed waiting for tomatoes, which won't go in for another week or so--you can see it still has it's winter coat on.
Another mix of beds: Hooped and/or covered beds were planted in the last week or so (more brassicas, carrots, leftover leeks and onions). One uncovered bed has favas and spring greens (planted around the same time as the onions "upstairs") The green-looking bed in the foreground was planted with a cover crop of oats and peas during our freak warm weather in March, and just turned it over last week. I'm still new to using cover crops: but I'll do an update post in a few weeks. In the middle is a patch that I've left mulch on and just raked a few spots to plant peas and spinach--zucchinis will go in later. And the blooming kale? That (and another bed covered with compost and leaves) is currently being ignored--though the kale blooms are lovely, aren't they? These are for warm weather crops of beans and eggplants/peppers, so I have left them for last.
I meet a lot of old-school gardeners that plant everything on Mother's day (or whichever date they learned from their grandmother for their particular region). What a lot of work! Consecutive planting (and harvests), and extending the seasons (now with the hoop I'm starting in February) really spreads out the labor, and the eating, into manageable sizes. Not so daunting after all.
This, is a little daunting, however! Still, the same rules apply: we've broken the project into pieces, and right now the scariest part for me is trying to grow grass once we level the bottom. Of all the things I grow, I'm the worst at grass!
Early spring hoopdate - March edition
It doesn't feel like early spring: our forecast is in the 70s for the next week. While I had resigned myself to a non-wintery winter, this is getting a little unnerving. I was re-reading last year's garden notes, in mid-March I was excited for days in the 50s, and we hit a very cold stretch in April. So we'll see how it goes.
With a forecast of clouds on Sunday, I was set to plant: but almost changed my mind when it turned sunny and the hoop shot to 100 degrees. I opened up the doors and went ahead, giving everything a good drink to minimize stress. The hoop-raised plants are pretty used to extremes, and as of yesterday they looked fine and happy in their new homes. I also planted a couple of experimental rows of peas.
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| wee baby mache, larger than life size. |
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I looked back at my notes from last year (see a pattern here?) and growth-wise, the hoop house plants are doing a little better than last year's low tunnels, and that may just be due to the warm winter we had. Seed-wise, it seems last year's schedule--I started spring seeding in early- to mid-march--is about right. So, except for harvest access, (and of course, the added value of hanging out in some sunshine on a winter's day!) it seems to me that low tunnels are equally as effective at winter gardening endeavors.
I do love my big hoop (I think I've said that out loud about six times this weekend) but it's nice to know that simpler and smaller alternatives can work just as well.
