Wednesday, April 8, 2015

April... still freezing...

Where I live, the last average spring frost date is June 5, and snow often persists into the end of April, sometimes even to the beginning of May. Right now all the gardening websites and Instagram accounts from elsewhere in the northern hemisphere are filled with photos of spring plantings, and people are anticipating their first salad greens and snow peas. Meanwhile, my front yard garden - veggie beds, grapevine, kiwi plants and all - is under about seven feet of gritty street snow. It's a hard time of year to be a St. John's gardener.


Downstairs in grow-light land, I have some perky eggplant seedlings started - two kinds. Both varieties were planted March 16th, but Korean Red came up almost immediately, while Diamond took its time. The Diamond seeds are a couple years old, so I'm happy to get any germination at all. Truth be told, I don't have room in the garden for either of them, but I'll figure something out. I usually have some leeks started by now, but the leek seeds I thought I had ordered were apparently a figment of my imagination, so I had to wait until I could get down the street to The Seed Company by E.W. Gaze and pick up some more. So they'll be a little bit behind, but I think I can coax them along.

To counter the miserable grocery store offerings this time of year, I've been growing some tasty microgreens - pea shoots and some brassica babies (mustard seed and some Asian greens). They're so easy to grow - my friend Paula has great instructions on her blog, so I won't reinvent the wheel. She and I bought our peas at the same time through our bulk-buying club, but you can buy them at natural foods stores, or in the import section of grocery stores, where they're called "whole dried peas" or "marrowfat peas" and usually come in boxes, kind of like a Cracker Jack box. My mustard seed came from a seed shop years ago, and the Asian greens seed came from the Rabbittown Community Garden - they're also years old. 




Fresh greens are helping ease the pain of negative wind chill and slow melt, but I'm really looking forward to seeing the garden again - or at least to getting the rest of my indoor-start seeds planted in a couple weeks. I've amassed entirely too many kinds of tomatoes again, because I never learn. 



Thursday, February 19, 2015

Time to get organized

Because my seed stash looks like this:


The late-night online seed orders have been coming in fast and furious, and I've just been shoving them in the big plastic container of seedy madness and waiting for a free moment to sort them out. I had a great system of envelopes at the beginning of last year, but somehow I still ended up with this giant mess. I seem to have eleven thousand varieties of lettuce, and enough tomatoes to satisfy the needs of several large Italian families. If only I had the space to plant them all!

I'm planning to try a few new vegetables this year; I've tracked down a short-season sweetcorn that might just work in the sunny spot in the middle of the backyard. The variety is Yukon Chief from Victory Seeds in the US (I couldn't find a Canadian source, not even in the actual Yukon). It is supposed to be a fairly compact plant, with each stalk bearing multiple ears. I've never grown corn before, and in fact very few people around here do, but if these seeds do well, perhaps that will change. I bought a packet for the Rabbittown Community Garden, too. Since there isn't really any corn growing near either location, we should be able to save some seed without any concern about it crossing. Who knows, it just might work.


Like all the other cold-climate gardening folk, I've been reading my way through the winter. These two books have been especially pleasant to flip through while the snow falls outside:


I'm very interested in Charles Dowding's no-dig method, not least of all because I am a very lazy gardener and would rather not do any more back-breaking labour than absolutely necessary. I think a lot of the labour we take on in the garden is simply to make us feel like we're doing something. It's the worms' job to integrate compost or manure into the soil: why do we insist on micromanaging?

Tammi Hartung's book is just gorgeous - beautifully illustrated, and full of suggestions for attracting more creatures to your garden, because more creatures means better balance and a more productive, less labour-intensive garden. Now, I say this as someone who lives in a place without squirrels, chipmunks, raccoons, possums, tomato hornworms, or, to the best of my knowledge, squash vine borers. But if I can attract creatures to eat the slugs and cabbage worms, I'll be a very happy lady.

So my plan for this evening: seed-sorting. It's going to take a while. But since our last average frost date is still 3 1/2 months away, what else do I have to do?

Saturday, July 19, 2014

Gettin' 'er done


For years we've been dealing with a mudpit of a front yard. It got torn up when we put the raised beds in, and between my tromping and the kids' trucks and water-fights and it being the last part of the property to shed its snow cover in May (or June), there's not much hope of growing grass there. We've been planning to put down flagstone but the time required to level and fit together a heap of natural stone is just too daunting for a couple of busy people with children hanging off them all the time. So tomorrow this fella here (that would me my husband, the lovely and talented Mark) is heading to the garden centre to pick up a load of pavers to neatly turn the space into a mudless island of stability where I can arrange pots and where the kids can play without having to be hosed down multiple times per day. I'm hoping to find some creeping thyme to transplant in the cracks around the edges, because that's just a lovely thing to have. I'll post more photos when we're all done!

Thursday, July 17, 2014

My pretties...


My fellow students at the Master Gardener Summer School program had to endure my endless ramblings about my beloved crimson-flowered broad beans on two separate occasions. On the first day, we were asked to name our favourite plant as part of a getting-to-know-you ice-breaker. And I mean, really, a favourite plant? Is there really such a thing? Where to begin? But I had to name something, so I chose the crimson broadies, as they are so beautiful and so tasty, and as such really embody my vision of ornamental edible gardening.

Then on the last day, we had a session on developing our presentation skills. I'm usually pretty good at that kind of thing, but at that moment I was suffering the after-effects of some enthusiastic and alcohol-fueled camaraderie and was in no way fit to present on anything at all, so I just reached within, fumbled through my mental notes from five days before, and repeated it all, only in point form. Not a top-notch performance, but I think I should get extra points for standing upright for the entire 60-second presentation.

So I was quite delighted to find my darling broad beans flowering their little leguminous hearts out when I returned to Pleasant Street. The smell is such that it could carry you off to magical lands, and the flowers are a most splendid profound pink-red. The leaves are a little bit nibbled, but still as gorgeous as ever.

I order these each year from Heritage Harvest Seed, and I have never been disappointed. Each year I plan to keep some seed for next year, and each year I turn into a big greedy-guts and eat them all instead.
Occupational hazard of the edible ornamental gardener, I suppose.



Tuesday, July 15, 2014

Less talk, more pics

I'm still trying to process all that I learned while I was away last week. I want to blather it all out, but where to start? Not just the classwork - although that was fantastic - but also the many things I learned from my fellow students, each of whom was coming to the table with their own experience and vision. It's times like this I veer off into utter cliché about each one of us being a unique plant in this great big garden called Earth. But I suppose that awe and wonder bring out the cliché in us all, right?

I took about eleventy thousand photos on the campus in Truro. Here are a few more.













Monday, July 7, 2014

On location: Truro!














A few pics from my first day on campus. Many tours, much brain, so soil samples, very mulch. I think I love it here. 

Saturday, July 5, 2014

A change is as good as a rest

My bags are (almost) packed, I'm (almost) ready to go to scenic Nova Scotia. I'm supposed to fly in to Halifax this afternoon, although there's a tropical cyclone trying to stop me. Damn you, tropical cyclone! As of right now my flight is delayed by an hour, and fingers crossed it won't budge from there.

I'm flying into Halifax and then heading on by bus (after a night of child-free merry-making) to the Dalhouse University agricultural campus in Truro (Bible Hill, actually), where I'll be enjoying the Master Gardener program summer school for five glorious, educational days. Just look at my schedule! Pruning! Mulching! Propagation techniques! Wheee!

The only hitch now is that my suitcase can barely fit the footwear I need to take with me, let alone my clothes.

Rainboots, walking shoes, and safety footwear? I managed to roll my raincoat up and squeeze in into one of my boots, but I'm not sure where everything else is going to go.

Without children to distract me, I'm hoping to be able to post through the week and let you all know what sort of adventures I'm getting up to. Or I might just spend every spare moment catching up on 11 years of fractured sleep...