August and everything after

Today's blog comes from Chevy Chase, MD, where I recently relocated and brought my garden along for the ride. In a two part journey, I carefully wedged tomatoes next to a toaster over alongside basil and in between sheets and towels, determined to shuttle this creation of mine (however masterful or disastrous it has been!) to its new home.

In stage one, I transported my weaker plants, thinking that if the journey was too strenuous, at least id know better next time for the thriving plants. I felt a bit guilty discriminating in this way, but I had little other choice. Despite my concerns, and my perpetual panics on the car ride that the air conditioner was blowing too strongly on their leaves, they made it here in one piece. It was a joy to rub the leaves of the tomato plants in my fingers and still smell that sweet, unmatched scent.

When my own move finally happened last week, it became obvious that our cars were already too crammed full of stuff to transport all of the remaining dozen or so plants. Since the new tenant of our apartment was a friend, I decided to leave some of the plants behind in her custody, including all the lettuce, the thyme, and a few others. It wasn't an easy decision, but I had already pretty much determined that something had gone wrong with the lettuce (it wasn't forming any kind of head, but had gargantuan leaves which flopped over the side of their container and looked somewhat limp and inedible at all times) and the thyme just wasn't going to grow beyond the tiny and delicate formation it had been at for weeks.

In each car, I carefully placed the thriving basil and the now two foot tall tomatoes, carefully re-attaching the dental floss ties to the stakes to keep them upright. In my car I plopped down my pride and joy-- the one highly successful eggplant, right where I could keep an eye on it. Still, a few weeks later, a real live eggplant is growing, purple and bursting from the stalk of this plant. It is taking far longer than a typical eggplant should, but I will be patient. This is all about patience.

So, the journey was overall fairly successful, but I realized on my drive southward that the dinner I promised never happened. In fact, it never even occurred to me. Perhaps I was too busy concentrating on moving, or perhaps my subconscious was protecting me from the harsh realization that I would, as I feared, only have basil to serve for dinner. Either way, my apologies for neglecting that promise to anyone who was eagerly awaiting some fresh backyard dinner!

Still, there's a good six weeks or two months left in this growing season, and I'm still holding out for the first bite of a ripe tomato (getting close from the looks of it!) or even better, a delicious Thai curry or ratatouille dish made with that eggplant. And since there is so much time left, I won't hurry on to reflect on the successes and failures of this garden just yet....

Thanks for sticking with me, and if this stuff about local food and sustainable agriculture gets you excited, check out Michael Pollan's article from the NYT Review of Books for an excellent sociological take on the "food movement": click here. It has given me inspiration to continue this blog on the broader 'movement'....!

ps joni mitchell (or csny) "woodstock"

Got to get ourselves back to the garden

Big NEWS! The weeks and months of patience, in watching the homogeneous mass of green in my fenced in little oasis has finally come to an end! As of about a week ago, after the tomato plants spiritedly flowered into life, little tiny tomatoes appeared through the blossoms. It is completely fascinating to watch them progress, day by day, into something that increasingly resembles a tomato fruit. Once small, hard and green, I've now got one that is well, still small hard a green, but has the shape of a tomato. Four others are on their way. Very thrilling.




I also recently had a flower from the nasturtium plant, a beautiful deep red one which looked totally suave against the dark green leaves and spindly brownish stalks, and one of my eggplant has leaves of jungle proportions, furry and with one lovely purple flower which I full expect to bear the beginnings of a baby eggplant before the week is out.


All this anticipation was first broken by my first basil harvest, which took place last week. We prepared a beautiful summer pasta dish, complete with local & organic summer squash/zucchini, and crammed as much fresh basil as possible into it. My hands smelled like basil for hours, which, if you've never experienced this, is pretty outstanding.

This past weekend I began the imminent move down south and brought along about eight of my plants. I brought the runtiest of the lot in hopes that the mid-atlantic heat might coax them into blossoming, and so that I wouldn't have to worry about my mom forgetting about them on her back porch. Auspiciously, when I placed them in their new homes, it almost immediately began to downpour, after weeks without rain in their former home.

Now, I've got about 14 plants to tend to, and am wondering if having a dinner party is really going to be possible. We may, as I feared, only eat basil for dinner. However, I can happily say this won't be as a result of failed plants, but only delayed growth. I know that all these plants are bearing already, as they're appearing at the farmer's market and in my boss's backyard (I am currently watering and harvesting produce while she's away on vacation-- tough job) but I know that with a little more time and patience, I WILL eat the fruits of my labor.

I've been thinking how much of a big step this is, going through the process from seed to fruit, and how accomplished I'm going to feel when I eat my first tomato. But I also know that this is the babiest of baby steps in the world of agriculture, and my knowledge is minuscule compared to what's out there. That is a daunting reality, but exciting too-- a lifetime of learning awaits!

p.s. REM Pop Song 89

Should we talk about the weather?

June has brought many storms and much growth in the backyard. For about a week I didn't have to water the plants at all, it was raining so often, and I began to worry that they were getting over watered. I couldn't decide: how much is too much? The soil level in the pots was decreasing, which I assumed was just because the water was compressing the soil and packing it down. I decided they were okay (read: didn't know what to do but cover them with a trash bag which seemed too silly for words), and lo and behold, after the rains lifted and the sun came out, each plant seemed not only alive and well, but quite invigorated.

About two thirds of the plants have been transplanted, and the structure they were living in was rapidly becoming too small. I recently came across a large table that neighbors who had been moving out left in the backyard. I seized the opportunity for more space and placed said table right by our back door. I carefully arranged all my plants on the table, ensuring they were well distributed for light and co-mingling. It was an attractive sight, seeing all of them thriving on this new piece of furniture.

I awoke the next morning to find all my plants on the ground (safe and sound, don't worry) and the table nowhere to be seen. Apparently I was mistaken when I assumed the table had been thrown out.

Since then, I've left the plants out to fend for themselves, while moving the former structure into the shade for the lettuce. While the lettuce started out wilty and sad, it seems to have taken a liking to all the shade and rain, and is slowly reviving itself back to health. Even the thyme, which I was sure was my first plant category casualty, is making a comeback (I may name it Landon Donovan).

Yesterday, I decided the tomatoes were becoming far too akin to stooped old ladies (bending & falling over) and they needed some staking. As any sane person would, I furnished stakes out of wooden chopsticks and dental floss. It is a temporary thing.

And finally, as we speak, my garden-structure-builder-helper-extraordinaire is laboring in the pre-storm afternoon to get a new, larger structure built for what will hopefully be a full contingent of plants in pots (as of now, some are still in cottage cheese containers..). As the plants (hopefully) begin budding with veggies, they will become ever more appealing to the numerous critters in the region, and I want them to be safe and sound.

More to come, as I look forward to harvesting my first basil in just about a weeks time, and attempting a seaweed & fish emulsion liquid to feed the plants!

p.s. Paul Kelly, From Little Things, Big Things Grow

from little things, big things grow!

Hello remaining readers!

I am here to report that things are GREAT on the gardening front. Since my last real post on the status of things in my garden, the little pipsqueakers I had growing have flourished into wonderfully thriving plants.

I first transplanted each plant into cottage cheese containers, as I said I would. I did this in three stages, allowing the first round to get settled so I could evaluate the effect, if any, the transplant had on the plants. It seemed only beneficial, so about a week later I transplanted the rest, leaving me with close to twenty cottage cheese containers filled with fledgling little guys:













As they continued to grow, I became more diligent about the hardening off process, and with the assistance of my oh-so-helpful co-resident, worked the plants up to about 4 hours of outside exposure per day. It was interesting how much more thirsty they seemed to be after only a few hours of direct sunlight.

Things were going great, until one hiccup. A few weeks ago, on an especially balmy weekend eve, we had a small gathering. Prior to said gathering, I paused to consider whether the location of my plants (balancing precariously on cutting boards on the back of the futon below our south facing window) was really a safe option for the imminent company. I either got distracted or decided it would be fine, but discovered later this was not a good choice. The inevitable happened, and we had several casualties. Some guys fell behind the futon, one fell into a guests lap. It was a sad affair, and though the soil was swept and vacuumed, and one even survived the trauma, my family of plants lost a few compatriots that night.

After a brief period of mourning, we moved forward, continuing to expose the plants to the outside. As the last frost safely passed approximately a week ago, and the success of the remaining plants was a daily reward, I made another trip to the garden store. This time I purchased $20 worth of goodies, and gave my self a metaphorical pat on the back for resisting the oodles and oodles of other things I wanted.

Never in my life did I think plants would be such a temptation, a plant store such a dangerous destination for my wallet. But there I was, wrestling fellow planters for the happiest looking lettuces, all too pleased with myself for feeling not like a totally clueless city girl, but more confidently like a legitimate amateur.

I left with some more soil, a set of six romaine starts, a nasturtium plant and some mixed greens. I got home and put them promptly outside with the rest of the plants. Not two or three hours later, the lettuces looked droopy and parched, altogether fuming with their idiot new owner who put them in 90 degrees direct sunlight with no water. Silly me.

These all need transplanting and a good deal of attention, and that will be my focus this week! Meanwhile, the rest of the guys were happily soaking in the rays, and looking pretty hardy for an overnight. I began to consider what would be needed to leave them unattended for long stretches.

On an early morning run last week, I came across a pile of junk that some students had left on the side of the street. I extracted the surface of an old ikea desk and happily hauled it home, soon to serve as the surface upon which my plants could live.

Before leaving town for the weekend, my aforementioned assistant took on the valiant task of purchasing and creating a shelter for the plants, to deflect any squirrel like invaders. Ten feet of chicken wire and four wooden rods later, my plants had their very own animal-free fortress:

While away, I spent many a nervous hour imagining the worst. Did the wind knock them over? Did an animal try to jump the fence? Are they too parched? Are they too cold at night? But I walked in the door not an hour ago, and rushed to the backyard, to find they were not only safe and sound, but looking beautiful. A few days of sunshine did them well, and though thirsty, looked quite content at having being left alone. My parental guilt lifted and I sighed a big sigh of relief.

With twenty seven plants now in my care, I can see that the work is only going to grow in keeping these guys happy and healthy. New homes are in their future, but can anyone make suggestions about plant food? Our compost pile isn't ready, and for plants this small, i'm worried it's not quite the right thing anyway.












Thanks for following along and staying with me! As always, thoughts, suggestions, and questions are welcome!

p.s. patty griffin, no bad news

Don't give me bad news don't want none of your bad news today

Okay, So I know I said I wouldn't make this blog into anything political and would confine its contents to the experience I have with growing my own food. That experience is going great, and I even revived three tomato seedlings from near death today. Quite a satisfying experience. But!
This is not the stuff for blogs, I've discovered, as plants actually grow quite slowly. For anyone who's stayed awake through this relatively boring process (not boring for me of course, but nobody wants to vicariously experience plant growth...) I thought I'd share some more interesting, and still VERY pertinent links, for your learning and reading pleasure:

First, an exciting article in today's Baltimore Sun about the appointment of a 'food czar' also known as an individual working in city government to oversee the access to healthy food within a city, including farmer's markets and urban gardens:

http://www.baltimoresun.com/health/bs-hs-food-policy-director-20100511,0,4699148.story?page=1

Second, an inspiring moment for corporate America:

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/05/12/dining/12gardens.html?hp

And third, a truly interesting look at the state of food access in the United States and its relationship to race, class, and geography:

FINALGroceryGap.pdf (application/pdf Object)


Check back soon for a more detailed update on the garden occupying/taking over my living room.

p.s. Laura Marling, No Hope in the Air

Hope in the Air, Hope in the Water

Wow! It has been 24 days since I planted these guys, and look how well they are doing!! Below, you see the tomato (far right) eggplant, and thyme. I think I followed bad advice when I sowed multiple seeds in each section, but I've been plucking some off every day (a very emotional and hard thing to do) and hoping the roots aren't getting all willy nilly down in the soil. It is extremely cool to see how these guys grow. My favorite is when I check them out in the morning of an especially sunny day, and by evening I can tell they have grown. Such an incredible process! These guys are on the other end of this planting station. You can still see the thyme and some of the eggplant, but then the round lily-pad like ones are basil and then there on the far left are the peppers!


Soon, it will be time to transplant. My first order of business will be to figure out which seedlings to save and then carefully move them. I think for now I am going to make use of our numerous cottage cheese containers: These are bigger and deeper, and will give me some time to collect the real containers that I'll harvest from. I already verified that the drainage situation is good, because of the lip in the bottom of the container (next time you finish some cottage cheese, you'll see what I mean!). I'll continue to grow indoors for at least the next month, as the last frost is expected in mid-late May. During this time however, I'll be hardening the seedlings, which involves taking them outside for a brief period of time each day, lengthening it as you get closer to the last frost. Then, the plant will be accustomed enough to the elements of the outdoors to live out there full time, and I shall be proud!

The other next step, which I expect to take place in a few weeks, is the procurement of lettuces. I would like to get a few varieties, and also pick up one or two more things to grow. We've also re-built a compost pile, a very DIY, low-budget situation against the back fence, which I hope to be able to use before this project is out. For now though, at least our waste is aerobically decomposing!!!

Speaking of which, that pile needs turning. Off I go!

p.s. check out this video on Havana's urban agriculture. I especially love the statistic about urban farmer salaries vs. that of doctors!

pps Sugarcane, Missy Higgins

Grow Tall, Sugarcane!

And so it begins!! On thursday of last week, I invested a twenty dollar bill and a little bit of shame into purchasing a seed starter kit (one of the aforementioned "for dummies" kind) with packed starter soil. I purchased tomato, basil, eggplant, pepper, and thyme seeds. On Saturday, I began my garden.

Starter soil (not the official name but what I'm calling it) is a thoroughly amusing thing. I popped one pellet of hardened soil (resembled a miniature hockey puck) in each of twenty compartments of my seed starter tray, and poured hot water over each. Like putting Peeps in the microwave, I stood in jaw-dropped amazement as they expanded to a small serving of my very own potting soil. Some were more recalcitrant than others, so I had to coax them along with finger prodding and extra water.

And, for the first time in 2010, I got soil all over my hands and under my finger nails. YES! The joys of playing in dirt, even small, evenly portioned indoor dirt, are unparalleled.

I planted my seeds as directed, each with four chances of survival (4 compartments per seed type). According to the packages, many of them should be showing themselves by mid-April, when the real Darwinian experiment begins.

I'll have to thin them-- cutting away the weaklings and showering all my support on the stronger ones-- which I anticipate will be somewhat difficult, emotionally.

Once late May comes around, I'll be planting my other food friends, including (I hope) some delicious lettuces.

Upon reflecting so far, I've realized a few things. Firstly, that there is a very good chance this project is going to fail. What if I didn't plant the seeds right? What if its too cold where they are now, and they never appear? What if..what if....so many things could go wrong. Secondly, if this whole thing does end up terribly, that's a-ok. I may not be able to feed my guests anything but a few sprigs of basil, but that sounds tasty, right?

In all seriousness, I'm in this for the learning experience. And I hope that next spring/summer, I'll do it again, regardless of how this time goes. Because if I'm going to talk the talk about local food systems, sustainable agriculture, healthy consumption and so on, I better figure out how to walk the walk.

And with that, think good thoughts of bounty and deliciousness for me, look out for forthcoming photos, and keep your eyes peeled for good growing containers (all kinds of funk acceptable), I'll be needing em soon!


p.s. Adele, Right as Rain