REPOST: Deciding to Grow Heirlooms

It's high time to get this garden party going again, and so, I revisit my first post, published in 2012.

Heirloom = a valuable possession passed on from generation to generation.

My father was a backyard gardener. My grandparents and great grandparents on both sides of my family were farmers. I have it in my blood. Although my newly arrived heirloom seeds are not from family, they come from a small farm in Michigan--a farm much like my past generations may have owned.

I've grown herbs and flowers and various types of vegetables through the years, but it's time to make it more meaningful. Some day I'll buy some land. Today, I have just a few hundred square feet in my urban yard. I'm determined to make it work. I will feed my family heirloom edibles this summer, and I will preserve and share the seeds after this season...

...and in the process, I hope to find a pathway to my inner garden of tranquility amidst the sounds of car alarms, disgruntled neighbors, and freeway traffic.

Day 58: Getting the Heck Out of the House

It's been nearly 60 days since my first heirloom seeds went into soil, and I'm tickled to see this day. I've mixed potting soil, sowed seeds, watered, done the daily find-the-sun dance, sang the snappy "grow-plant-grow" ditty about a zillion times, plucked out my seedlings, and prepped my beds.

Seedlings toward the end of April, gathered at a south-facing window for Grandma to plant-sit while we're out of town.

The day to put the seedlings in the soil outdoors, under the sun and moon, 24-7, is here. The seedlings have been hardened off, or have spent increasingly more time outdoors to get acclimated to their new environment. In the ground as of this hour are tomatoes, peppers, onions, and lettuce. And I also direct-seeded spinach and carrots today.

Brand new transplants of onions and tomatoes, with their favorite companion flower, the marigold. The twine marks the line where carrot seeds were sowed.

The snap peas are reaching for the sky and beginning to move beyond the trellis in the pot to the larger trellis on the patio. In a few more weeks, if all goes well, we should see blossoms.

Amish Snap Peas, 41 days after sowing seeds.

The Sugar Baby Watermelon plants are happy. Their outdoor beds and climbing structures are almost ready. Another day or two, and they'll be in the ground.

Sugar Baby Watermelon, 41 days after sowing seeds.

Filderkraut Cabbage is good--and I'm happy to report that there is no sign of cabbage moths or worms! The kale is slower, but is coming along nicely. Red Cabbage and Brussels Sprouts still need a few weeks to mature.

Filderkraut Cabbage, 56 days after sowing seeds, crowding each other and ready for transplanting.

Lacinato Kale, 57 days after sowing seeds. Slower growth than expected, but growing just fine.

Lettuce and Parisian Market Carrots (those small, round guys) are in my east-facing window box. I hope they'll get enough sun. I'm temporarily reserving space in my two south-facing window boxes if they don't work well here in the east.

A blend of lettuces in an east-facing window box. Also planted here are Parisian Market Carrot seeds.

Also, I continue to share seedlings. To date, friends and family members have taken about 1/4 of what I've grown. I still have a good amount left that I won't be able to accomodate in my yard--what to do with them? Two more weeks, and most everything will need a home.

And Then There Were Many

"One for the rock, one for the crow,

One to die, and one to grow."

- English saying

Heck, I have enough seedlings for the rock, the crow, and for the entire neighorhood to grow. My mother has always recommended "everything in moderation," but I've always been a bit of a rebel.

This past week I've been thinning out my little seedlings, getting many into larger pots of their own. And what I've realized? I sowed a BOAT LOAD of seeds! A good majority of them have germinated (see below), which, hey, kudos to Annie's for sending healthy seeds, and to myself for providing them the right conditions for success. They've now taken over my house ... which is good and bad.

I've quite liked caring for my heirloom seedlings. I move them around to find sunshine each day, take them outside on nice days, bring them back in, water them, gaze at and admire them ... I nurture them. I'd rather have a new baby (okay, that's a ridiculous understatement) or a puppy, or both, but for now this will have to do. The bad is that they've taken over my house. I'm beginning to tire of the indoor follow-the-sunshine dance, and the daily vacuuming of the small remnants of soil found on windowsills and floors. I'm now officially ready to get them outside and into the ground. Another week or two are needed yet, I know, so I'm practicing patience.

So how many seedlings do I actually have?

• Filderkraut Cabbage: sowed 180 seeds; 146 seeds germinated (81% success rate)
• Red Rock Cabbage: sowed 150 seeds; 120 seeds germinated (80% success rate)
• Long Island Brussels Sprouts: sowed 200 seeds; 174 seeds germinated (87% success rate)
• Lacinato Kale: sowed 100 seeds; 97 seeds germinted (97% success rate)
• King of the North Bell Pepper: sowed 25 seeds; 25 seeds germinated (100% success rate)
• Bianco di Maggio Onion: sowed 100 seeds; 95 seeds germinated (95% success rate)
• Sugar Baby Watermelon: sowed 25 seeds; 21 seeds germinated (84% success rate)
• Lettuce blend: sowed 100 seeds; these are hard to measure, but they are growing like mad (I'll call them 100% successful)
• Amish Snap Peas: sowed 80 seeds; 80 seeds germinated (100% success rate)

That makes 858 individual seedlings...so far. I haven't even begun to direct-seed my carrots, spinach, kohlrabi, and herbs yet. Zoinks! Have I mentioned how small my yard is?

Then there are my tomatoes...these haven't had as much success. I believe this was my fault, though. I'll post separately about that.

In the meantime, it's due time to start sharing the many.

Time to Make the Beds

"The best fertilizer for a piece of land is the footprints of its owner." -- Lyndon B. Johnson

More heirloom seedlings are up and smiling. Currently growing are Filderkraut Cabbage, Red Rock Cabbage, Long Island Improved Brussels Sprouts, and (just yesterday) my beloved Lacinato Kale.

The time for transplanting to the great outdoors is coming, and there's a lot of prep work to do. The next two weeks will be all about the soil: Digging into it, testing it, weeding it, and amending it. In addition to containers, I have three main planting areas that I'll focus on this year: BED 1, along the south side of the house; BED 2, along the south side of the garage; and BED 3, along the east side, or back, of the garage (the crude drawing is not to scale, but I will use this basic sketch to start noting plant locations).

In previous years, the only area that I used for edibles was BED 1, along the south side of the house. You'd think that this area would be the easiest to prep, but I was silly to plant invasive bamboo here a few years ago, and these tough guys, along with an overgrown butterfly bush and spreading annual grasses, will make for some backache...and that's just not acceptable on a Monday. So I started with BED 2, the area along the south side of the garage.

The area is nearly a blank slate. About 10 years ago, I planted a neat row of Goldflame Spirea shrubs, but not only have they grown to a not-so-neat state, they do nothing for the vertical space here. It's interesting to note how much larger and healthier the plants are close to the gutter downspout--it's clear that the bushes farther away from it did not get enough water. Before the heirlooms go in, a better irrigation system will be installed.

I dug out all but one out of the Spirea shrubs. I figure that the one adds some visual interest, and, from the front side of the garage, this Spirea has always looked great. Once the garden plans come together, though, it may have to come out as well. While digging, I noticed lots of worms here...that's a good sign.

The bed will be widened yet, and I'll need some stepping stones so the little grass that's in my yard stays put. I'll create a framed-in mesh netting, which will run vertically right up into the roof eaves. This will allow the plants to grow up, not so much out.

The plan for plants in this space (BED 2): tomatoes, for sure, and likely peppers, since the two both thrive in the same soil type. What kind of soil is here, I currently do not know--that is my next task, and one (hopefully) made easy by the handy dandy digital soil test kit brought to me yesterday by the Easter Bunny.

DAY 8: March 28: We've Got Seedlings!

A little earlier than I expected ... eight days after planting my first batch of heirloom seeds, I see green leaves poking through the soil. What has come up first? FILDERKRAUT CABBAGE. Willkommen, my little cuties!

Filderkraut Cabbage, also known as Spitzkhohl, is an ancient German heirloom that was developed for making sauerkraut. According to Annie's, this variety has "huge pointed heads, is very sweet, and makes for an excellent sauerkraut."

The plant is expected to grow to about 28 inches, and the arrow-shaped heads should be about 12 inches tall when ready for picking.

I'm pleased that these came up first, as these are a very long seasoned crop--mature heads aren't even expected for 90-100 days after transplanting them into the ground, which is still a few weeks away.

Also, like most cabbages, they are a cool weather crop and best seeded indoors in early spring so the plants can develop while the temperatures are still cool. I'll try to keep some warmth underneath the soil, and bright light via the sun and/or a grow light above the seedlings until the outdoor temps are warm enough again to harden them off outside for a few hours a day, lengthening the time they're out each day as time goes on, before transplanting them in the ground for the season.

In the last few years, I've started to really enjoy several varieties of cabbage, and in raw and cooked forms. I'm fascinated that cabbage has been around for thousands of years and was loved by the Greeks and Romans. I'll dig into the history of cabbage and post what I find in a few days.

DAY 1: March 20: The First Seeds Meet Soil

It's go time. My nine-year-old daughter and I are working together on this project, and all winter we've been collecting egg cartons. There are a few of the styrofoam varieties but the majority are recycled cardboard, which we will further recycle directly into the ground with our seedlings.

Five varieties of tomato plants went into 3-inch fiber pots, which can also be planted straight into the ground. I love the variety...greek, pink, black, red, cherry.

Each container was labeled (<3 Sharpie <3), and after planting, all immediately went out to sunbathe--it's been record high temperatures in the 80s this week, so our seeds should be off to a dandy start. With it being March in the Midwest, though, we'll have to watch the temperatures carefully. There's a spot ready in the basement for when the outdoor temps drop near the freezing mark, which could very well happen yet.

We'll now fall into a twice-a-day water cycle (a spray bottle is used so the seeds aren't flooded) and anticipate the day that the happy little seedlings poke through the soil. In the meantime, the big shovels will come out to rearrange the yard. There are many shrubs to dig out and plants to move around to make room for our heirlooms. Concerned about the tiny yard, I have been thinking a lot about vertical gardening--these guys are going to need to grow UP...

My Heirloom Seed Purchase

All winter I thought about purchasing heirloom seeds. Suddenly March arrived, and I realized that I needed them asap! I did some fast and furious research and made the decision to buy from a small, family-owned farm in my own state. It just felt right.

I ordered from Annie's Heirloom Seeds. I found the website to be well-organized and detailed, and the owners share my opinion on growing heirlooms to honor previous generations (the past) in addition to growing for ultimate flavor and health (for the present and future). The seeds arrived snippity-snap at my door.

Here's what I ordered. As the months go by, I'll detail each choice and track the plants' development.

• Lacinato Kale
• Filderkraut Cabbage
• Mammoth Red Rock Cabbage
• Long Island Improved Brussels Sprouts
• Bloomsdale Long Standing Spinach
• White Vienna Kohlrabi
• King of the North Bell Pepper
• Amish Snap Pea
• Parisian Market Carrot
• Jaune du Daubs Carrot
• Bianco di Maggio Onion
• Cilantro
• Flat-Leaf Parsley
• Sugar Baby Watermelon

• Annie's Lettuce Blend, which consists of Forellenschluss, Tango, Red Salad Bowl, Oak Leaf, Amish Deer Tongue, Rouge d'Hiver, Rossimo, and Cocarde

• And Annie's Favorite Tomatoes Collection, which consists of Black Krim, Thesssaloniki, Koralik, Amish Paste, and Caspian Pink

Total price, with shipping? Just over $40. I was tempted to buy more. Annie's has some beautiful varietites of eggplants, melons, and peppers, but I don't even know how I'll fit what I did order into my small yard.

Consider this all experimental--we'll see how these turn out, how the space plays out, and how much produce these plants yield. Hopefully I'll have LOTS to share, and have room left to expand the offerings next season.

What Are Heirloom Seeds?

Heirloom seeds, to me, are simply seeds of plants that started the "seed - plant - seed" cycle before seeds were genetically modified (had their DNA altered by genetic engineering techniques).

Seed Savers Exchange, an almost 40-year-old organization devoted to preserving heirloom plants through regeneration and seed exchange, defines "heirloom" as "open-pollinated varieties that are more than 50 years old and have been handed down through generations."

Per the Daily Green, "Heirloom vegetables sound fancy but are simply the kinds of vegetables everyone ate before the days of mass-produced produce. These are veggies that look and taste the way nature intended..."

Anyone who has tasted a homegrown heirloom tomato can't deny that it has a superior taste to a mass-produced, store-bought variety, which is cross-bred to crapola. Its shelf-life may have increased by a week or two, saving the grocer a few pennies, but the supermarket tomato now tastes a little like a red rubber ball.

The case for genetically modified (GMO) produce is potentially much worse than being palate-displeasing...we think. I say it that way because long-term testing of GMO produce is incomplete. After all, GMO foods were only put on the market in 1996! There are no long-term studies to definitively tell us how these laboratory-altered products affect the human body, and yet, by 2010, per the National Agricultural Statistics Board, 93% of the planted area of soybeans, 93% of cotton, 86% of corn grown in the United States were GMO. More on GMO in a separate post. For now my focus is on heirloom, and out I go to water my little planted treasures.

Sources:

"Genetically modified food," https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Genetically_modified_food.

"Heirloom Seeds," The Daily Green, http://www.thedailygreen.com/living-green/definitions/heirloom-seeds.

Seed Savers Exchange, http://www.seedsavers.org.

Deciding to Grow Heirlooms

Heirloom = a valuable possession passed on from generation to generation.

My father was a backyard gardener. My grandparents and great grandparents on both sides of my family were farmers. I have it in my blood. Although my newly arrived heirloom seeds are not from family, they come from a small farm in Michigan--a farm much like my past generations may have owned.

I've grown herbs and flowers and various types of vegetables through the years, but it's time to make it more meaningful. Some day I'll buy some land. Today, I have just a few hundred square feet in my urban yard. I'm determined to make it work. I will feed my family heirloom edibles this summer, and I will preserve and share the seeds after this season...

...and in the process, I hope to find a pathway to my inner garden of tranquility amidst the sounds of car alarms, disgruntled neighbors, and freeway traffic.