Seed Central

The kitchen is slowly becoming seed central. With forecasters calling for a severe drop in temperature tonight and warning of a major wind storm, it just felt right to seriously kick off seed season.

First up: the Large Musselburg leeks. They did very well last year. I harvested them quite early. Now I realize I could have left them in the ground a lot longer to thicken up. I love leeks. Leek and potato soup is a fall favourite.

Next: the "Red Wing Hybrid" Onions. Last year's experiment with bunching onions was a huge disappointment. The garden produced green onions that could only be described as pitiful. So this year, I'm going big. And since the package says "stores well" I'm hoping to produce enough to store a few through winter. Ultimately this is becoming the goal of the vegetable garden: produce enough to sustain oneself through the cold, dreary months. I've got a ways to go but certainly progress is being made.

On the tomato front, "Petitbec" will be returning for another season. This was easily the most robust plant and prolific producer in the garden last year. It's a huge bonus that the sprout enjoys eating the tomatoes right off the vine. The fruit is slightly larger than a cherry tomato.

I didn't plan to plant any "Green Zebra" tomatoes but while I was shopping I sparked up a conversation with a gentleman who grows dozens of tomato varieties. He raved about "Green Zebra" enough to spark my curiosity. It's supposed to have a slightly tangy flavour. We'll see how it goes.

And speaking of rave reviews, Brandywine fans have lots of glowing things to say about this tomato. I can't wait to taste it and see what all the fuss is about.

Together with potatoes, strawberries were the first edibles I put into the garden. I grew them for years but eventually conceded defeat to the squirrels. Now that I have a sprout in my life the appeal of strawberries is strong again. Like the tomatoes, strawberries are a fun food to be experienced straight off the vine and still warm from the sun. These strawberries are called "Temptation." Doesn't bode well in the battle against the squirrels. I see some nets in my future. For now though, all is safe at seed central.

Springing into Spring

A weather record today. The temperature soared to 17.9 degrees celsius (64.2 F) shattering the previous record of 15.4C (59.7F) set in 1974. Needless to say, there is an extra spring in my step. The video of my little sprout bounding down the street pretty much sums up my own reaction to the day. (The sprout, of course, looks incredibly cute. I, however, don't think I could get away with that, at least not without a few strange looks.)

While we're springing into spring, here's some footwear to herald the changing of the seasons. These boots, modeled by the sprout, are an undeniable sign that spring is en route. No matter what winter throws at us over the next few weeks, it is well on its way out the door and that is a very, very good thing.

First Day in the Garden

If Phil looks especially content it's because he had some company in the garden today. With temperatures just below the freezing mark and the sun shining bright, I ventured outside to do some cleaning up and poking around.

There was lots going on out there. The daylilies were the first to catch my eye. As usual, they arrived to the party early and brought lots of friends. I'll be dividing these this spring and using the divisions to create a daylily edge at the opposite end of this border.

The tall bearded iris have made it through the winter just fine. Like the daylilies, the irises have grown into a most impressive clump. I need to divide these too but I'll wait until after they bloom. Maybe I'll even wait until fall (that seems to be the best advice of numerous internet postings on dividing iris).

Are those daffodils? They must be daffodils. I love daffodils. Last fall I planted dozens of daffodil bulbs and am especially excited to see them.

Judging by these buds, it's going to be a very good year for the "Ludwig Spaeth" lilac. Lilacs are often criticized for not having much to offer a garden once they are done blooming. I couldn't even begin to imagine a garden without the unbelievable fragrance of lilac.

Yup. I think Phil will have lots to be happy about this year. That's good news because we all know that a happy gargoyle is essential to every garden.

Whole Lotta Sproutin' Goin' On

Less than a week after sowing the first seeds of the year, the garden cress has sprouted. In the morning, the sprouts were just peeking out of the soil. By evening, they were standing tall. In another week, I should be collecting the first harvest of the year. While the garden cress is growing strong, there's still no sign of any sage, thyme, or basil sprouts. Soon enough.

There were a lot of things sprouting at Seedy Saturday. Alongside all the seed, garlic, wildflower, rain barrel and vermi-composting displays, I was able to check out a unique greenhouse. These seedlings are all being grown by a local community food centre. It's more than just a food bank. The organization has a huge community garden. These seedlings will be transplanted there, cared for by volunteers, and eventually harvested to be used in community meals that feed hundreds of people.

The Seedy Saturday crowd was enormous. We were packed shoulder to shoulder and shuffled along at a snail's pace through the vendor area. It was so crowded that I found it difficult to browse the seed selections (bad for me but good for gardening!) I wasn't too disappointed though, knowing that I already had more seeds at home than I could possibly plant.

Even so, it didn't feel right walking away with nothing. When I found the booth for the North American Native Plant Society, I waited patiently and inched ever closer to the seeds. I came away with some sweet joe-pye, helenium, golden alexanders, great blue lobelia, and tall ironweed. I already know where they are going in the garden. A weekend of seeds and sprouts was a great way to bid adieu to February and welcome March.

My February Friend: Herb(s)

Yes, it's February. And yes, the last two days have been exceptionally cold and windy. And yes, the last frost day in these parts won't happen for another two-and-a-half whole months. But darn it all, it's time to start growing some things. I feel the need for some green!


Herbs fit the bill perfectly. They can grow happily by the back door until better weather arrives. I picked up some thyme, sage, basil and garden cress at the grocery store where the first big seed display of the season went up this week. I've never tried garden cress before but the package said a harvest would be ready in 10-12 days. That's almost instant results. How could I pass that up? It's so good to be planting again.

Serenity Now!!!

It has been an incredibly stressful month, so stressful that gardening and blogging have been the last thing on my mind. A long, drawn-out home excavation and underpinning project next door has encroached onto our property pushing me to the brink of a nervous breakdown. Walkways have collapsed, my foundation has been exposed, building inspectors have been called in, and lots and lots of sleep has been lost. It has been hard to enjoy the blue skies during a short stint of nice weather.

If you ever watched "Seinfeld" you'll know that "Serenity Now" was a popular catch phrase. George's father would scream it at the top of his lungs during trying times. That's just how I feel. I am trying really hard to put things in perspective. Don't sweat the small stuff, as they say. Everything will be okay. All necessary repairs will be taken care of. But after two years of varied construction projects I have had enough. My gardens have been trampled; I have lost plants; a tree has been damaged; and my head aches from the daily chorus of jackhammers. All I can do, however, is wait this situation out breathing deeply and fighting back both the tears and the anger.

There has been one small comfort in this latest construction fiasco. All of it has happened in winter. If this had happened in summer my nervous breakdown would have happened long ago. It is my deepest, deepest hope that all the work will all be done before spring when months and months of worry and stress will melt away into the soil, and the foliage, and the blooms. For now, I'm finding serenity in short little spurts like watching the birds for a few minutes. Hope you find your serenity now.

Winter's Hasty Retreat (I Hope)

The sun was blazing this morning and temperatures for the next four days are set to soar above the freezing mark. It's the February thaw (usually we get a January thaw but that didn't happen this year. Better late than never.)

Here's the snow retreating from the edge of the nearly-all-native woodland walk.

The moss phlox is looking a little worse for wear but I expect it to put on a vibrant spring-time show. When I planted it last spring, it was little more than a sprig of green about 3cm long. It put on quite a bit of growth in season one, so I'm hoping for a spectacular season two.

Recognize this? It doesn't look like much now but that's foamflower. I am sooooooo excited to see how it does this year. Like the moss phlox, the plants were wee when I put them in. I had eight and lost three to squirrel activity. The five that made it had the most beautiful little mounds of foliage at the end of last season. This year I am counting on some blooms.

I spend a lot of time in the garden coming up with ideas for how to get rid of a little bit more of my existing lawn. But on this sunny February day I'm going to celebrate this much maligned turf. Just look at how lovely and (sort of) green it is.

The warm spell is supposed to last all week. Needless to say, this has unrealistically raised my expectations that we'll breeze through February and March without further extreme winter weather and that planting season will soon begin. Ah well, a gardener can dream (but only for a little while longer.)