I have spent the last week and then some considering the financial implications, possibilities, and limitations of this project. One statistic I read says that if you put $70 into a garden, you can yield $600 worth of returns. This seems overwhelming in many ways, but I am baffled by the idea of $600 worth of produce. Even adjusting for the higher market price for fresh local goods, and some major error in plant cultivation, I can't imagine that I could ever have such a positive result. Is this realistic or negative of me?
Anyhow, if possible, I'd like to put $0 into this, and make $0 dollars in return. I see the whole transaction to be one of effort (what I put in) and edible and psychological rewards (what I take out). But then I got to thinking: is it really going to be possible to put no money into this?
First, there's the issue of seeds. The garden center nearby sells seed packs for about $3/pack, so theoretically I wouldn't run up too high of a price tag just buying them straight out of the store. But I want to do it for free. I haven't had any luck finding any yet, but persist in my trolling of craigslist/freecycle.
Then there's fertilizer (I assume, though am unsure, that if I get a good compost going, this won't be necessary). Then, there's the issue of soil. Okay, so I've got a ton of ground soil right out my back door, but I was avoiding that soil so I didn't have to go to the hassle of messing up the backyard and getting it tested. I can only imagine the look on my landlord's face when she comes by to check on things after we leave, and there is a six inch dip in the backyard where grass and even terrain used to be...!
Anyhow, since that weird rodent decided winter was going to go on another six weeks, I may not have to fret just yet. But I do think its time to commence thinking STARTS. This is the term for the beginning stage of plants, which you can initiate growth of indoors, before they are ready to be transplanted them outdoors. Hooray! Victory is: not using the word you are trying to define anywhere in the paragraph that you construct to define it.
Depending on the plant, you can get going on these starts anywhere between a few weeks and a few months before the last frost. So, here I am thinking summer, with half-numbed fingers and toes and fogged up glasses everytime I come inside! But the trouble is more in this question: when is the last frost??
I live half way between a city to the south which claims to have its last frost at the end of April (4/29) , and a town to the north which claims to have its last frost on May 26th. This complicates my calculations, but I've selected May 15th to be safe.
And so, I have a deadline of March 15th to arrange where and how I'll be getting all my supplies. This falls perfectly just days before a conference I'm considering attending on gardening (though there is a registration fee of $15...hmm...).
Between now and then, keep your ears open for me, and let me know if any sources float across your horizon!
P.S. Gillian, The Waifs
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Weary as you lay at night waiting for the sun
I've gotten some really helpful tips over the last few days, and am particularly amused by the prospect of forcing myself, my cohabitant, and all of my guests/visitors to start peeing in the backyard instead of my bathroom. I would really evolve as a woman of the earth, and devolve as a good host!
Some of the more useful suggestions have come in the form of literature others have used in their gardening/food growing endeavors. If you don't yet know, I'm a big fan of lists, and look forward to the abundance of list-making opportunities afforded by this project. So, in that spirit, a collected list of resources I have so far, and a call for more additions:
I learned from an interview with Michael Pollan about his new book Food Rules: An Eater's Manual that home gardening is up 40% in the United States. I don't know what percent of the population that correlates to, but it's an exciting statistic. Many other countries around the world take home gardening and food growing as a given; a supplemental (or main source of) income, a hobby, a means of feeding their family, or some combination of all three. In fact, there are many cities that depend largely on small scale farming for their produce industry. Dar Es Salaam, for example, has a thriving urban agriculture and livestock raising industry, and about three quarters of its market produce comes from within city limits.
Where I live, during the height of the growing season, many people eat food from nearby farms and gardens without even knowing it, and more importantly, without even trying. This region is particularly fertile as it is situated between two major rivers, and enjoys a relatively cool, sunny summer time. Local agriculture industry thrives here, in part because of the progressiveness of the community, but mostly because, for those few abundant months of the year, it just takes no effort to get your groceries from down the road.
But, I digress. My garden will in no way be an attempt to bolster the local food economy, or make a political statement of any kind. If I were to wish that upon it, I would be putting far too much pressure on myself as it's cultivator, and its abilities as a newborn. Instead, I look at this project as a kind of course enrollment-- a semester long education in something that, despite all its bourgeois couture these days, is actually very fundamental and key for survival.
Especially over the couple of months, when my hands will remain clean and my food will remain store-bought, I'll be collecting ( & sharing!) information, statistics, and synthesizing it all in a way that makes relevant sense for my garden. Because, even though it may not seem like it, there is a connection between a Tanzanian family's livestock and the sage I hope to pluck from my garden and melt in a butter sauce in July. I'm not totally clear on what it is, but I know it's there.
p.s. Red House Painters, Metropol 47
Some of the more useful suggestions have come in the form of literature others have used in their gardening/food growing endeavors. If you don't yet know, I'm a big fan of lists, and look forward to the abundance of list-making opportunities afforded by this project. So, in that spirit, a collected list of resources I have so far, and a call for more additions:
- Gaia's Garden, Toby Hemenway
- Garden Anywhere, Alys Fowler
- How to Grow More Vegetables and Fruits, Nuts, Berries,
Grains and Other Crops Than You Ever Thought Possible on Less Land
than You Can Imagine, John Jeavons - The Essential Kitchen Gardener, Frieda Arkin
- Food Not Lawns, Heather Coburn Flores
- Second Nature: A Gardener's Education, Michael Pollan
- things by M F K Fisher
I learned from an interview with Michael Pollan about his new book Food Rules: An Eater's Manual that home gardening is up 40% in the United States. I don't know what percent of the population that correlates to, but it's an exciting statistic. Many other countries around the world take home gardening and food growing as a given; a supplemental (or main source of) income, a hobby, a means of feeding their family, or some combination of all three. In fact, there are many cities that depend largely on small scale farming for their produce industry. Dar Es Salaam, for example, has a thriving urban agriculture and livestock raising industry, and about three quarters of its market produce comes from within city limits.
Where I live, during the height of the growing season, many people eat food from nearby farms and gardens without even knowing it, and more importantly, without even trying. This region is particularly fertile as it is situated between two major rivers, and enjoys a relatively cool, sunny summer time. Local agriculture industry thrives here, in part because of the progressiveness of the community, but mostly because, for those few abundant months of the year, it just takes no effort to get your groceries from down the road.
But, I digress. My garden will in no way be an attempt to bolster the local food economy, or make a political statement of any kind. If I were to wish that upon it, I would be putting far too much pressure on myself as it's cultivator, and its abilities as a newborn. Instead, I look at this project as a kind of course enrollment-- a semester long education in something that, despite all its bourgeois couture these days, is actually very fundamental and key for survival.
Especially over the couple of months, when my hands will remain clean and my food will remain store-bought, I'll be collecting ( & sharing!) information, statistics, and synthesizing it all in a way that makes relevant sense for my garden. Because, even though it may not seem like it, there is a connection between a Tanzanian family's livestock and the sage I hope to pluck from my garden and melt in a butter sauce in July. I'm not totally clear on what it is, but I know it's there.
p.s. Red House Painters, Metropol 47
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Take me around the city streets find us pretty things to eat
Saturday's expedition to find containers turned out to be informative, but ultimately unproductive. I scoped out, on the tail end of a walk through the nearby bird sanctuary, a few multi-residences near my house which have large dumpsters. Not ready to commit to any particular container, I didn't venture into these, but made mental notes of their whereabouts, and plan to return. I realized that I also don't really have space to keep containers, and am not interested in watching them get buried under the 5-10 inches of snow we are currently being delivered. So, container procurement will have to wait until another day.
As i've been mulling over the gardening possibilities, I've realized that I'm going to have to diversify the geography of this project. My backyard is spacious and just dying for some planting, but its really the front of the house that gets the most sun. If I remember right, in early August the backyard got good sunshine until about 3:30 or 4pm, whereas the front gets pretty much all they daylight there is. Unfortunately, the front of the house is also a parking lot, hogged most of the time by our neighbors behemoth vehicles. There is a small patch of soil though, and the plants which currently occupy the space only vaguely resemble something that was once living. Perhaps my landlord won't mind if I put in some attractive containers of herbs in to "liven" things up a bit. (ha).
Speaking of herbs, I spent some time trolling the internet today to figure out what in the heck I'm actually going to plant. I don't want to be too overzealous, since according to the totally unofficial but extremely helpful "gardening 101" website (written by some bored man in Oregon) a small kitchen garden needs about 30 minutes of attention each day. That seems manageable, and I expect since I'll be doing a lot of things for the first time, it may be more than that.
I read that this region of the country is a 5B Hardiness Zone according to the USDA Plant Hardiness Zone Map which has all sorts of implications for crop production. It seems like herbs, which apparently are obedient and do whatever you say, are great beginner plants, and will work in most climates. I'm going to go with thyme, rosemary, and sage to begin, and possibly add in basil and oregano later. The latter seem more finicky, especially since oregano sounds like the rabbit of the plant kingdom-- multiplies like crazy.
I also hope to plant onions and garlic. For vegetables I want to try: tomatoes, cucumbers, lettuce, snap beans, summer squash, and beets. And there is a variety of strawberry called Allstar that seems to do well in containers in the northeast. I'd love to have another fruit or two in the mix, but am not sure of other options without planting trees. Any suggestions?
Anyway, I'm beginning to get a better sense of what I can & can't do. I'm also beginning to get excited for (the idea of) tomatoes, which I only encounter these days when they've grudgingly slopped out of a marinara jar. Oh, sigh. That will all change, in time, in time!!
Many thanks to everyone for commenting, becoming "followers", and giving positive feedback so far! I continue to receive useful suggestions and ideas, and welcome yours.
Sara
p.s. Deb Talan, Cherry Tree
As i've been mulling over the gardening possibilities, I've realized that I'm going to have to diversify the geography of this project. My backyard is spacious and just dying for some planting, but its really the front of the house that gets the most sun. If I remember right, in early August the backyard got good sunshine until about 3:30 or 4pm, whereas the front gets pretty much all they daylight there is. Unfortunately, the front of the house is also a parking lot, hogged most of the time by our neighbors behemoth vehicles. There is a small patch of soil though, and the plants which currently occupy the space only vaguely resemble something that was once living. Perhaps my landlord won't mind if I put in some attractive containers of herbs in to "liven" things up a bit. (ha).
Speaking of herbs, I spent some time trolling the internet today to figure out what in the heck I'm actually going to plant. I don't want to be too overzealous, since according to the totally unofficial but extremely helpful "gardening 101" website (written by some bored man in Oregon) a small kitchen garden needs about 30 minutes of attention each day. That seems manageable, and I expect since I'll be doing a lot of things for the first time, it may be more than that.
I read that this region of the country is a 5B Hardiness Zone according to the USDA Plant Hardiness Zone Map which has all sorts of implications for crop production. It seems like herbs, which apparently are obedient and do whatever you say, are great beginner plants, and will work in most climates. I'm going to go with thyme, rosemary, and sage to begin, and possibly add in basil and oregano later. The latter seem more finicky, especially since oregano sounds like the rabbit of the plant kingdom-- multiplies like crazy.
I also hope to plant onions and garlic. For vegetables I want to try: tomatoes, cucumbers, lettuce, snap beans, summer squash, and beets. And there is a variety of strawberry called Allstar that seems to do well in containers in the northeast. I'd love to have another fruit or two in the mix, but am not sure of other options without planting trees. Any suggestions?
Anyway, I'm beginning to get a better sense of what I can & can't do. I'm also beginning to get excited for (the idea of) tomatoes, which I only encounter these days when they've grudgingly slopped out of a marinara jar. Oh, sigh. That will all change, in time, in time!!
Many thanks to everyone for commenting, becoming "followers", and giving positive feedback so far! I continue to receive useful suggestions and ideas, and welcome yours.
Sara
p.s. Deb Talan, Cherry Tree
Friday, January 15, 2010
Blossoms in a frost open to the world
Day two. Nothing has happened. This is natural, I suppose, since it is the dead of winter and all hopes of planting are at least two months off. But it seems like the beginning of this project should start with a bang! of some kind. Maybe I can go buy some fancy obscure seeds to commemorate the project, but for tonight, I'll get down to the plans.
I read somewhere that gardening is a year-round job, which struck me as odd. While I tempt fate by going out without thermal underwear, there are people out there considering produce? I don't think so. But as I kept reading, I realized how much planning has to go into this kind of endeavor. Especially for a first-timer like me.
So, this morning over tea and banana pancakes (two highly non-local imported food items-- Bananas in New England? Tea at sea level? ha!), I assessed what I've got and what I need.
Existing supplies:
1. gardening gloves
2. shovel
3. sunny space perfect for container gardening both in front and back of house
4. three-step compost system*
5. Alys Fowler's Garden Anywhere
6. a bookmarks folder of useful sites
* Step 1: Put scraps in large bowl in kitchen
Step 2: Wait as long as is fragrantly bearable and then transfer to 11 gallon container on back step
Step 3: Push down items in said container for as long as possible until no space remains and compost is generating enough heat to melt surrounding snow. Then move compost to "discreet" pile on side of house.
The supplies I have so far are, though all imperative, also quite scant. Although I have ample soil in which I could garden, I'm leaning towards mostly container gardening. This way I don't have to leave a half-constructed garden in the soil when I move, and I can move plants around depending on what they turn out to need & want. So the first thing I'll need is containers.
I intend to get these and as many other materials as possible from non-new sources. Tomorrow it's going to be positively balmy here (43 degrees farenheit!) so I'll go on a dumpster/neighborhood excursion and see what I can come up with.
I obviously also need some seeds, and need to figure out what I'm going to do about soil. I am inclined to use soil from my backyard and mix it with my compost (of which a good layer is ready for use, assuming the rats haven't gotten to it since the last time I visited-- oy!). I'm not sure whether my backyard soil is any good though, and I've heard that container gardens need especially non-clay-ish soil. Is my soil clay-ish or not? I better figure that out.
I'm sure there are a variety of other items I need, but these seem like the big three to focus on for now. So, tomorrow: containers!
Go! :)
Sara
p.s. yesterday's song: "Mightiest of Guns" by A. A. Bondy
I read somewhere that gardening is a year-round job, which struck me as odd. While I tempt fate by going out without thermal underwear, there are people out there considering produce? I don't think so. But as I kept reading, I realized how much planning has to go into this kind of endeavor. Especially for a first-timer like me.
So, this morning over tea and banana pancakes (two highly non-local imported food items-- Bananas in New England? Tea at sea level? ha!), I assessed what I've got and what I need.
Existing supplies:
1. gardening gloves
2. shovel
3. sunny space perfect for container gardening both in front and back of house
4. three-step compost system*
5. Alys Fowler's Garden Anywhere
6. a bookmarks folder of useful sites
* Step 1: Put scraps in large bowl in kitchen
Step 2: Wait as long as is fragrantly bearable and then transfer to 11 gallon container on back step
Step 3: Push down items in said container for as long as possible until no space remains and compost is generating enough heat to melt surrounding snow. Then move compost to "discreet" pile on side of house.
The supplies I have so far are, though all imperative, also quite scant. Although I have ample soil in which I could garden, I'm leaning towards mostly container gardening. This way I don't have to leave a half-constructed garden in the soil when I move, and I can move plants around depending on what they turn out to need & want. So the first thing I'll need is containers.
I intend to get these and as many other materials as possible from non-new sources. Tomorrow it's going to be positively balmy here (43 degrees farenheit!) so I'll go on a dumpster/neighborhood excursion and see what I can come up with.
I obviously also need some seeds, and need to figure out what I'm going to do about soil. I am inclined to use soil from my backyard and mix it with my compost (of which a good layer is ready for use, assuming the rats haven't gotten to it since the last time I visited-- oy!). I'm not sure whether my backyard soil is any good though, and I've heard that container gardens need especially non-clay-ish soil. Is my soil clay-ish or not? I better figure that out.
I'm sure there are a variety of other items I need, but these seem like the big three to focus on for now. So, tomorrow: containers!
Go! :)
Sara
p.s. yesterday's song: "Mightiest of Guns" by A. A. Bondy
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Tomorrow i'll be out of my mind
Good evening. It is 8:29pm on a dark January night. On this evening, auspicious in its inauspiciousness, I am committing to build a garden.
My mission: to start from scratch and stumble through growing food. I have read the books on agriculture, vegetarianism, I've been lectured to, and I've even lectured some myself. I have tasted the splendor of others' produce, and despite all this, I have exactly zero real experience. By July of this year, 2010, I will bring to life a small garden in my backyard. As a symbol of my success, I will host a dinner party exactly six months from today, on July 14th. I will feed my guests selections from the garden. We will eat three courses augmented in flavor and joy by the bounty of my harvest. You are invited.
Like Novella Carpenter and Michael Pollen, Alice Waters and Jonathan Safran Foer, I am taken with the possibilities, the importance, the joy in this project, and I see some added value in writing about it. But unlike them, I am a total and complete novice. So, this will be a blog devoted to the maturing of both garden and gardener. One starts out as a snowy grassy mess behind my house, the other a well-read and idealistic, but totally clueless young woman. I hope half a year from now, things will be different.
I will use as my guide: the internet, books from the library, and anyone willing to offer their thoughts. Please join me in this project, whether in effort, advice, criticism, or thought. Tomorrow I will write again, with an assessment of what I've got, and what I need to get started.
HOORAY!
Sara
p.s. just for kicks and because i'm a bit of a music junkie, you will find the words of songs as my post titles. if you want to play the "name that lyric's song title & artist" game, feel free to post your guesses in the comments! I'll post the answer in the next day's post.
My mission: to start from scratch and stumble through growing food. I have read the books on agriculture, vegetarianism, I've been lectured to, and I've even lectured some myself. I have tasted the splendor of others' produce, and despite all this, I have exactly zero real experience. By July of this year, 2010, I will bring to life a small garden in my backyard. As a symbol of my success, I will host a dinner party exactly six months from today, on July 14th. I will feed my guests selections from the garden. We will eat three courses augmented in flavor and joy by the bounty of my harvest. You are invited.
Like Novella Carpenter and Michael Pollen, Alice Waters and Jonathan Safran Foer, I am taken with the possibilities, the importance, the joy in this project, and I see some added value in writing about it. But unlike them, I am a total and complete novice. So, this will be a blog devoted to the maturing of both garden and gardener. One starts out as a snowy grassy mess behind my house, the other a well-read and idealistic, but totally clueless young woman. I hope half a year from now, things will be different.
I will use as my guide: the internet, books from the library, and anyone willing to offer their thoughts. Please join me in this project, whether in effort, advice, criticism, or thought. Tomorrow I will write again, with an assessment of what I've got, and what I need to get started.
HOORAY!
Sara
p.s. just for kicks and because i'm a bit of a music junkie, you will find the words of songs as my post titles. if you want to play the "name that lyric's song title & artist" game, feel free to post your guesses in the comments! I'll post the answer in the next day's post.
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