How does your garden grow?

The kale is in the ground…some of the plants–including tomatoes, peppers, and chamomile–that I started from seeds then transplanted several weeks ago when it STILL looked like this outside:

Coincidentially, the last of this week’s planting marked the end of my husband’s first week at a new job and moving in with me and my daughters after five years of marriage. Definitely a transplanting that will have to be nurtured…

I direct planted spinach, peas, carrots, Swiss chard (which have seeds that resemble some type of spice or, as Meg pointed out, the belly button of an orange)…

…and Sultan’s Golden Crescent beans, a rare variety.

I transplanted the chamomile, most of which we started in eggshells; a method I would use again as the seedlings were more robust than those started in the plastic trays.

Chamomile seedlings, photo by Meg

“Why would you simply buy chamomile tea when you can do all this work instead?” my husband teased.

“Exactly.”

Just a side note on the condition of the soil…this is my sixth summer of fighting the clay. Honestly, you could make pottery. I’ve added peat, various mulches, some compost, manure, and this year, mushroom compost and it was the most workable it has ever been. I’ve also never seen SO MANY worms. BIG ones. The things I let Meg talk me into for the sake of her photography…

Mackenzie wanted to plant All Blues (potatoes) and Moon and Stars melons, which of course, we have no room for. So her grandpa helped her build a raised bed at his house where we planted the sprouted potatoes and melon seeds on Mother’s Day.

This is the first summer in our condo that we’ve mostly filled our small plot with food. Now to keep the rabbits out. I’m hoping our neighbor Fred (big fat cat) will help deter “visitors.”

Take a stand and sit down–how to recover your dining room chairs

I decided I finally couldn’t stand for it anymore.

The four kitchen chairs I bought 6 years ago at a garage sale have nearly each been in some state of potential hazard for a while. When one finally splintered into what resembled a deadly movie prop from Final Destination XIII, attack of the cheap furniture, I broke down and accepted 4 free chairs from a friend.

Old formal dining room chairs with striped velour fabric and about a quarter-inch of ass-compressed foam…

Here’s how to recover chair seats. Or at least how we did it.

Materials and tools:

• Fabric–heavy, hides stains, and is on clearance
• Foam–the dense kind. It’s not cheap, so I waited for a 40% off coupon at Joanne Fabrics.
• Thin batting (I reused the old stuff since it was in perfect shape)
• Paper for a pattern
• Scissors, pliers, staple gun, and a hammer for when the staple gun doesn’t work

1. Remove the staples, fabric and old foam (the most time-consuming and tedious part)

Dramatic shot of staple pulling

You end up with…

2. Using the old chair fabric as a guide, I made a pattern out of paper (on floor, at right) and cut the new fabric to fit. Since the foam was thicker, I allowed for a couple of extra inches.

3. Position the seat over the fabric, batting layer, and foam. Fold a flap of fabric up over the straightest edge (the back on these seats) and staple from the center to the edges. Do the same on the opposite side, pulling the fabric taut.

4. For the seat corners, pull the fabric corner so that it points toward the center of the seat. Then, using your best origami skills, fold and staple the hell out of each one.

5. You’re done. Easy, huh?

6. (Optional) Luck out and buy a coordinating tablecloth from Target that just happens to have the same color scheme. Add romantic lighting. (Even bad upholstering skills look good in candlelight.)

This project took a few hours, but I love what we did for about $30. Have you ever re-upholstered furniture?

Putting Down New Roots–in dirt and in life

Have you ever been transplanted? I was following my divorce in 2005.

I couldn’t help but see an analogy today as I was transplanting the delicate seedlings that more quickly than expected outgrew the mini-starter trays.

A few weeks ago I started seeds for kale, two varieties of tomatoes, hot peppers, and chamomile. The kale and Amish Paste and Riesentraube tomatoes are…as my husband said, “ready to take over the earth.” Or at least butting their little heads against the plastic lid of the seed tray.

I gently loosened and scooped them out, transplanting them into larger containers (where I would have started them had I known how quickly they’d grow). The roots were already long, but it was the stems I had to be careful not to snap.

When people are transplanted, for whatever reason, we take root pretty quickly if the “soil” is good. But that doesn’t mean we’re standing on strong legs right away.

We need time. Fertile ground. Nurturing.

Thankfully–because of faith, family, and eventually my new husband–I have had all of these and have grown strong. As much as I’ve always loved to garden, since being transplanted (and since being a mother, too), I have a different appreciation of growing things.

I’ve never transplanted seedlings. And the work is tedious. It’s so much easier to buy some overgrown Beefsteak from Wal-mart. But nowhere near the satisfaction of planting a seed and ending up with an entire plant that feeds your family. (Hopefully.)

So, now they need time. Fertile ground. And nurturing.

Me and the seeds–transplanted.

Other SPRING THINGS

It FINALLY felt like spring today.

I asked my friend if it was weird for me to be excited about cleaning off the patio. Of course, not. I knew she would understand. It was a beautiful day in Chicago and in the Upper Peninsula, and despite challenges in both of our lives, we were feeling hopeful and grateful on this Good Friday. How can you not?

So I started sweeping. An activity I love.

Arranged the blooms from my first-year Limelight Hyacinth tree that I cut in the fall.

And chatted with my daughter who enjoyed a first-of-the-year breakfast on the patio.

Pic by Meg. She always has an interesting perspective.

Spring has sprung in my kitchen

Last week, I filled out a planting schedule I found on Mother Earth News and started my two varieties of tomatoes, hot peppers, kale, and chamomile. I scheduled what to start indoors and when to transplant, and what seeds to plant directly in the soil and when.

I would have posted this as an example for those interested, but if you saw my plan for the garden in the previous post, you’ll know I’m not much of a blueprinter.

I used organic potting mix, seeds from Seed Savers Exchange, and eggshells I’ve been saving. When the plants are ready to go in the ground, I’ll crack the bottom of the shells and plant them right along with the plant, since eggshells will break down and provide nourishment.

I would have planted all the seeds in eggshells, but we just don’t eat that many eggs. They do look nice sitting in the window, though.

If you’ve made it this far and you aren’t really a gardener, try at least planting some herbs. You will be amazed at how easy it is and how much it enhances your cooking and eating. And it is truly magical watching something grow. Then devouring it on top of homemade pizza.

I’ve never started herbs from seeds, but thought I’d give it a shot with the chamomile, which should flower nicely and add some floral to by veggie patch. I plan to make tea with it, too. I had never seen seed this small!

It’s a miraculous process. We forget how much so, because we are used to grabbing those fat heads of plastic-wrapped lettuce off the pile at the grocery story. I took this moment to remind my 20-year-old daughter that she was once that tiny. I had to share my wonder.

The rest of seeds ended up in a not so aesthetically pleasing container.

But this does a better job of holding in moisture…and warmth, as it is unseasonably cold for March in Chicago and still quite cool even near the kitchen window. It did cross my mind to set the plants on the dryer…until my mother said, “I hope to God I don’t walk into your laundry room and see plants sitting on top of the dryer!”

But it’s all good. A week later [insert drum roll...]

Here there be plants!

Hopefully the ground will warm up in time for transplanting.

Here there be seeds

Hobbits like gardens. And eating. Two things we have in common. I thought about this as I mapped out planting the small garden plot.

Mapping it out made me realize how gardening is a journey in which you start out one place and end up somewhere completely different. Without the traveling, of course, but you learn and labor and experience and eat along the way.

Meanwhile back at the ranch…we’re dragging my father along on the journey. He’s building a raised bed back at his “ranch” for the melons and potatoes since we don’t have room for that. (Damn you, condo association!)

Our seeds from Seed Savers arrived in the mail, so I’m spending today planning which ones need to be planted when.

Some I’ll start in trays (I can hear my mother saying, “Where in godssake are you putting trays full of dirt?!”) or maybe in homemade milk jug greenhouses outside. Others will be planted directly in the ground before the last frost. Some will have to wait until after the earth warms up a bit more…

…because this is what my main garden area looked like as of last week. The beginning of the “journey”…

Itsy-bitsy, teeny-weeny homestead (by that I mean condo garden)

Sometimes you just have to change your perception of a thing.

This isn’t the same as changing your perspective. I mean, no matter how I view the garden space off of my condo patio, it is what it is. A small plot of clay-filled soil, a few pots, and a lot of shade.

But rather than waiting for my dream 10 acres in North Carolina to appear in my backyard, I will think of this little bit of dirt as an itsy-bitsy corner of that acreage. And this is what I now perceive the garden to be. (I’m in PR; this is not a stretch for me.)

I will need to hire many workers.

In addition to taking small steps over the winter toward my future as a homesteader, I made big plans for this little garden. This spring I’ll forgo the flowers and plant shade-tolerant veggies. And I have decided to start them from seeds in milk jug greenhouses (see instruction below).

This is what I ordered from Seed Savers Exchange:

QTY	B/O	WOI	Item	Description
1	0		Swiss Chard, Five Color Silverbeet OG	Swiss Chard, Five Color Silverbeet OG
1	0		Spinach, Bloomsdale OG	Spinach, Bloomsdale OG
1	0		Watermelon, Moon & Stars (Yellow) OG	Watermelon, Moon & Stars (Yellow) OG
1	0		Bean, Sultan’s Golden OG	Bean, Sultan’s Golden OG
1	0		Carrot, Paris Market	Carrot, Paris Market
1	0		Lettuce, SSE Lettuce Mixture	Lettuce, SSE Lettuce Mixture
1	0		Pea, Tom Thumb	Pea, Tom Thumb
1	0		Kale, Dwarf Blue Curled OG	Kale, Dwarf Blue Curled OG
1	0		Tomato, Amish Paste	Tomato, Amish Paste
1	0		Tomato, Riesentraube	Tomato, Riesentraube
1	0		Herb, Chamomile German OG	Herb, Chamomile German OG

And this is what I perceive they will grow into:

NOTE: Yes, I know watermelons need tons of space–which I don’t have. My father has been convinced (?) by his sweet granddaughter that it is his duty as a good Christian man to build a raised bed in his yard thereby fulfilling God’s command to be fruitful and multiply.

Tragedy or triumph? Stay tuned…

Milk Jug Seed Starters

With the method below you can start garden seeds in late winter if you don’t have indoor lights or a cold frame. My seeds don’t arrive until late April, so we’ll see how it goes.

1. Cut a gallon milk jug (or other large plastic container) in half horizontally, leaving one edge intact to use as a hinge. Discard the cap.

2. Punch several drainage holes in the bottom.

3. Fill the bottom with 3 inches of potting soil, moisten well and plant your seeds.

4. Fold down the top cover, and secure the cut seam with duct tape. Enclose the planted jug in a large clear or opaque plastic bag (such as a produce bag), held together at the top with a twist tie.

5. Place in a sunny, protected spot outdoors.

6. One week before transplanting, harden off seedlings by removing the bag and tape, and propping the jug open with clothespins.

Compliments of Mother Earth News

Rise, rise, rise, let it rise!

The title is a play on the Bachman-Turner Overdrive classic from the 70s, that decade when we packed Wonder Bread in our school lunches every day. But this is a new decade in my life…the pre-homesteading one in which I bake my own bread and take another step toward a future life on five acres with chickens I don’t name, because I will eventually eat them.

My love of home-baked bread started at age 5 when I would sit across from my crooked great aunt as she shaped lovely mounds of dough and lined them up in rows across the flour-dusted formica table. When she wasn’t looking (and that was somehow never), my arm would shoot forward like a tiny bolt of lightning and snatch a bit of the dough. Using strange magic, she would glare simultaneously at me and at the tattle-tale pinch left by my little fingers.

How did Wonder Bread ever cut it after Aunt Doris’s homemade rolls? Actually, I quit eating it and feeding it to my own kids years ago. Anything that melds with peanut butter and jelly to evolve into a new species by lunch hour can’t be good for you.

I’ve tried baking bread before but never had time for all that rising and kneading. And I haven’t had much luck with bread machines, which manufacture something like an unevenly baked box.

Enter Grit’s homemade bread guide and the versatile and nearly no-fail recipes for NO-KNEAD bread. No need to knead, because the unusually wet dough is left to rise for 12-18 hours before it is baked in enamel-ware, cast iron 3-qt. pots.

These pots can be very expensive. I bought mine at Carson Pirie Scott’s when they were 60% off. The crust they form is crunchy and chewy and crackles as it cools on the rack.

I know what you’re asking. Who has time to bake bread? Not me. But this method is easy to work into my day. Here’s my favorite Grit magazine no-knead recipes:

Basic white bread (pictured above, the easiest to make)

Oat raisin bread

Cranberry “walnut” bread (Because of nut allergies, I substitute the walnuts with the same amount of finely diced candied ginger. I’ve used crystallized, too, but the candied has a softer texture. You can find both at Trader Joe’s, Whole Foods, and even Target. I also add a couple teaspoons or so of freshly grated orange rind.)

Sun-dried tomato bread (I leave out the cilantro and add a couple teaspoons of chopped fresh rosemary.)