Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Week 4 - A time for transplants

A deep red blush is creeping up the cheek of the largest strawberry on the vine; the second largest is tinged with pink. As I looked through the leaves, I also noticed several buds as new fruit pushes its way toward the sun. I know it's only a few berries, but this pleases me more than I can say. I'm growing things. I'm a grower! Not quite ready for the lofty title of "gardener," but I'm feeling more confident.

The second plant, however, has had the same three tiny sad fruits as it had when it was first potted. Though I see signs of life at the base as it, too, tries to create new growth, I'm a little saddened. My mom (admittedly, not a gardener) advises me to poke the roots to stimulate growth (come to think of it, this also seemed to be her approach to child rearing.) I'm not sure I would respond to such behavior positively, if I were I plant, but I might try it if more progress isn't made soon.

I finally found a solution to replanting the onions that were so crowded in their tiny planter — a trip to Sam's Club (of all places) yielded a raised planting bed kit made of recycled materials. Two checks! (Pardon the poor image quality, it's a cell phone pic). The kit was easy to put together, though we opted for using only one of the two segments (our yard is teeny tiny, so that's all that fit anyway).

After some contemplation, hubby and I decided it was best to remove the rock from the area where we were planning to put the bed. There's plastic underneath to (presumably) inhibit weeds from poking through, so it seemed good to leave it in place. At this point, I'd like to offer an FYI to anyone clearing rocks from a seemingly small area of your yard: a spade is probably way too small for the job (unless you like taking ages and ages to accomplish it). The whole family got into the act, with the toddler "helping" by placing one rock at a time in the spade. Didn't make the job go faster, but it certainly made it cuter. Ultimately, we used empty plastic flowerpots as scoops to get the area clear.

Another trip to the nursery for soil (followed by a trip back after getting the wrong kind... one day, I'll learn), and it was time to plant. I wisely picked up a full-size shovel and rake as well, to make future projects easier. We spread the soil, watered it down and began planting the onion bulbs I didn't have room for in the first planter. As they were dried, it was much easier than transplanting the already planted onions, which had quite a root system developed already. As they were also much more pliable than their dried brothers, it was a bit harder to set them straight into the tiny holes created for them by our fancy garden equipment (aka a Baja Fresh drink straw). My lack of depth perception caused the rows to be less than straight, but I recon they'll grade on a curve.

Next up, we had to remove the Walla Walla onions from the bowl and replant those. This proved to be the biggest challenge, as the root balls were so tangled and intermixed, it was hard to get them apart. Afther a little coaxing (and perhaps a wee bit of cursing), they were replanted in their new home.

Finally, I added some garlic plants purchased on one of my soil-purchasing forays (told you I was impulsive).

Though I thought that was it for the week, a busted water heater merited a trip to Home Depot, where I did a quick turn through the garden section and found the holy grail: Tomatillo plants! I've been searching for these since day 1, and had all but given up hope. I picked up two, as my (limited) reasearch indicated that they were not "self pollinating." These two also had blooms already, which seemed like a good sign.

I thought about planting them in the space vacated by the Walla Wallas in the bowl, but it's increasingly clear that those tomato plants will need all the space they can get, and may themselves be transpalnted soon, so I opted for an unused pot I had hanging around. Now my salsa garden is complete.

By the way, I realize these pictures may give a sense of having a much larger growing area than I do, so I thought I'd include a wide shot of just what an eensy area I'm dealing with. The patio swing (from the previous owner) lost it's sunshade last year in a vicious wind storm, so it doesn't block the sunlight to my corner garden. I am beginnning to wonder what to do when the days get hotter. Right now, it's only getting to a comfortable 70 - 80 degrees outside, but soon those temps will soar. The next time I'm at the garden center, I'll have to ask about that. I ultimately plan to cook with these veggies, but I'd rather do it in the kitchen as opposed to the back yard...

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

Week 3

Gardens are kind of like children. If you don't look at photos of them every so often, you don't realize how fast they're growing.

If you had asked me this morning how much progress the plants are making vs. last week, I wouldn't have said much, but the photos speak for themselves. The tomato plants are making giant leaps and bounds, despite the continuing harsh weather.

I'm pleased with the way everything is growing except the onions. Those onions are still looking a touch waterlogged to me. Their stalks are still nice and green, but what I can see of the bulbs looks unhappy somehow. The Walla Wallas have perked up, however, after pinching off some of the unhealthy stalks. I think they'll be replanted this weekend, along with the rest of the yellow onion bulbs. I've scouted out another spot in my yard that seems to get enough sun, so we'll see if they thrive over there.

My impulsive nature suggests that we might also try a little garlic while we're at it, but common sense may prevail.
One thing I had wanted to add to the mix but wasn't able to locate in the nursery were tomatillo plants. I can grow them from seed, but I'm not sure if it's too late for that now. My research indicates I'll need two as they are not self-pollinating (who knew some plants could pollinate themselves?), and they're definitely growable in my region, so I'll have to inquire a bit more about those.

I will, however, be planting a sweet potato that escaped a fate as my dinner by sprouting several lovely leaves. It's so pretty, I'm going to try and grow those little shoots as houseplants (I don't have deep enough soil to grow them as food). This is reportedly easy to do; we'll see about that. In the meantime, it's enjoying the view from my kitchen window.

On a side note, I haven't had to do much of what "traditional" gardeners need to do as of yet (you know, weeding, tilling, fertilizing, etc.), but it looks like there are a few other things growing in the yard this season that I need to discourage. I've been looking for tips online on how to do that without using crazy chemicals (as my two-year-old would surely be exposed), and have found a couple of suggestions. So far, I like pouring boiling water over the cracks in the patio to kill the roots, and using vinegar. What tips has anyone else come across?

Here's to another week of happy growing!

Week Two - More Questions

The good news is the plants are stil alive.

Now, I'm not such a bad gardener that i expected anything to go wrong in just seven days, but there have been a few setbacks provided by mother nature.

First of all, the cold weather that had promised to be gone for the winter decided it was ready for one last fling. Temperatures so cold that snow actually fell in some of the outlying areas of Las Vegas, followed by howling wind and even icy rain.

I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do... did I need to cover them? With what? Towels? Plastic bags? I wasn't sure, and ultimately they seemed no worse for the wear so I stopped worrying.

The strawberry plants are already beginning to bear fruit. I have two different varieties in the basket, and both seedlings had tiny fruit when I purchased them. The "regular" strawberry plant has about four little fruits that have nearly doubled in size since planting them last week. The fruit on the Chandler berry plant, however, remain tiny and uninspired. Maybe some of the nice weather Spring promises to provide in a few weeks will help.

The cilantro has rebounded nicely. It sits beneath the strawberry basket, proud and virile. I read somewhere that you need to trim cilantro before it starts to flower, or you have to replant more. If this is true (why didn't I bookmark that site?) then how do you know it's about to flower? Should I crop some off bit by bit, or do I need to shear the entire crop at once? Anyone?

As you can see from the photo, there are four little areas on the herb pot that are empty at present. If all goes well, those will be filled with oregano, parsley, mint and maybe basil (also not a fave, though fresh in small doses is OK).

My tomatoes are superstars. The Early Girl is sprouting new growth like mad, the Mortgage Buster has grown a few inches and the cherry has a few blossoms already starting to form.

I'm starting to worry about my onions, though.

First of all, the instructions wrapping the Walla Walla onions indicated that I should plant the entire peat pot in the garden, which I did. However, the yellow onion bulbs said they needed to be planted a couple of inches apart, in well-drained soil. These are both bulb onions, right?
 
After a quick check with Google,  I realized that I will have to transplant the Walla Wallas soon in order for them to thrive. In the meantime, a few of the stalks look a bit droopy and sad. I hope it isn't too late.

I used the long, low planter I had grown strawberries in a few years ago for the yellow onions, but I totally forgot that inproper drainage was the reason those plants didn't thrive. I only planted a few of the bunch, planning to get a larger planter in a few days, but those few seem really waterlogged to me. Of course, it has been raining quite a bit, so maybe it just hasn't had time to seep out.
The jalapeños have gotten a few new leaves as well, and are looking a bit larger. Maybe it's a good thing the Walla Wallas are vacating soon, so they can take up that space. All in all, my worries about my erratic care and the strange weather have proven fruitless. Here's hoping the same won't be said of these plants.

Sunday, March 14, 2010

...and so it begins

As the sunlight tickled my eyelids and my body began to wake, a thought popped into my head..."Today you get to plant your garden!"

A smile worked it's way across my face, and I sat up and stretched, eager to get dressed and get on with the planting. I wasn't entirely sure what appropriate garden planting clothes looked like, but figured jeans and a long-sleeve T-shirt would do. After all, I wasn't plowing the back 40, or tilling soil. All I had to effectively do was open a bag, pour some dirt in a bowl and put plants in it, right?

I fed my daughter and made sure we both had shoes on (a difficult task, in her case) before heading went out back. The first order of business was planting the shepherd's hook. The patch of ground I decided to use for my garden is located in the corner of my yard. For reference, my yard has no dirt or grass in it. The majority is covered with brick, save for a square of faux-grass; the fringes are bordered and laid with decorative rock over plastic which has deteriorated to the point that a few hearty weeds poke through each year.

After moving rocks to expose the plastic, I found a nice size hole had already been made. Using a spade, I dug my way a few inches down into the dirt, but it was hard-packed and difficult to work. Locating our hose, I screwed it onto the faucet and let the area soak a few minutes before trying again. I got a few more centimeters down and lost patience, opting to put the prongs of the shepherd's hook into the hole and just push it down.

This didn't work out particularly well. As the metal prongs hit the hard packed dirt, the long neck of the hook began to bend. Ultimately, I ended up pushing it a bit further, then piling the rocks on top to try and stabilize it then leaving the hose on in hopes it would sink a bit more. Fortunately, it was able to lean on the cinderblock wall in the meantime.

Next, it was time to plant. I set up all the supplies on the patio table (indulging in a quick photo shoot first, to document my journey), then started reading the little plastic bands on the seedling pots to see what I needed to do.

The plants came in the cutest little peat pots that were meant to be planted directly in the soil (saving steps for me, and also saving the earth from another plastic pot in a landfill). I probably should have read them after coming home from the store, though, as it seems I should have been soaking them before planting. Scrounging around my backyard, I found a long planter I had used for strawberries a few years earlier and filled it with water, setting the pots inside.

Next, I found a screwdriver and poked out the cutouts in the plastic bowl I was going to use for my salsa garden to ensure proper drainage. The aforementioned strawberries died a premature death in part because I failed to ensure proper drainage, so I wanted to cover my bases.

After placing the bowl on top of a garden keeling pad to keep the dirt in (and make it easier to transfer to its resting place without spilling all the soil), I turned to the bag of organic soil and began filling my pot. That's when I ran into problem #2.

Luckily, I love to read labels. Love it. Even if it's a bottle of the same brand of shampoo I've used since early adulthood, I'll still give the label a little once over before application. So while making sure I didn't have to soak the soil before transplanting my cute little peat pots, I ran across three little words that made my internal critic howl with glee: Not For Containers.

Seriously? This 20lb bag that I've already torn open is useless to me? After a few minutes of feeling like the world's biggest loser, I turned off the hose, strapped the toddler into her car seat and headed down the road to Star Nursery. I wasn't sure I could trust myself anymore, so I wanted to hang out at a place where experts were more likely to be around.

Just inside the doors, two things were apparent: One, I would have to keep an even tighter rein on my impulsive self than I did on my two-year-old; and two, this was almost too overwhelming. From the outside, the building looks about as large as the garden centers at Lowe's or Walmart. Once inside, however, it's a whole different ballgame. The front of the store is probably the smallest portion, akin to the candy-and-gum lined aisles of a grocery checkout (which is to say, mainly impulse-driven purchases). Through a large door in the back lay the first of many greenhouse-style segments, featuring the most mind-boggling array of plants, planters, soil, fertilizers and gardening tools you could imagine (and some that I never, ever would have).

After a few minutes wandering this Wonderland, I spotted a palette of what I hoped was my objective: bags of Filthy Rich organic potting soil. POTTING surely meant CONTAINER, right? After more than a few minutes of fruitlessly seeking help (which seem like hours when towing a testy toddler around), I grabbed a bag of soil and headed back through five rooms to the cashier (where I found another palette sitting just inside the doorway--naturally). She verified that it was what I needed, and quickly rang up the soil (plus a nice pair of gardening gloves... I'm weak).

Back home, the sun had traveled to just the spot I envisioned it to be when I was done with my planting. After clearing out the pot, I began planning the placement of my garden. I went with the Cherry and Early Girl tomatoes in the front, onions in back, and jalapenos to either side. The yellow onion bulbs I got from Walmart were destined for the planter that the peat pots were soaking in, and the cilantro would have it's own home in the herb pot.

After planting all my new babies in their pots, I tackled the Topsy Turvy and the hanging basket of strawberries. Anyone who has ever used one of these miracle devices probably knows that they're fairly heavy when they're full, but being a novice, I didn't get that memo. Trying to hold the chain portion while inserting the seedling, filling with soil then soaking with a gallon of water is pretty hard on the arms, so I was eager to get it up on the hook. Once there, however, instead of helping push the hook into the ground, it began to teeter toward the ground.

Somehow, I was able to secure it briefly against the wall while I rushed to plant the strawberries. Putting that basket on the other side of the planter did help, but it still leaned heavily against the wall. Ultimately, I decided that was OK.

Finally, I planted the onions and began flooding the pots with water (as called for by their instructions). The one peat pot I didn't plant with it's seedling was the tomato in the Topsy Turvy, so I broke that one apart and placed it like mulch over the soil in the salsa garden.

What a sight to behold, my happy little plants were. The cilantro looked a bit dejected, but all the others seemed healthy and perky. Photos were taken, then I wiped a dirt-caked hand over my sweaty brow in satisfaction before seeking a tall glass of iced tea.

How does my garden grow?

I'm not the world's most proficient gardener. I don't have a black thumb, mind you. Most of my houseplants over the years have stayed in some sort of alive state (except palm trees... go figure). It's just that I get bored looking after them sometimes, or life will demand more of my attention than the green things, and they quietly fade away. But after reading the blog posts and tweets of a few new online friends, I am ready to head back to the nursery and grow a few things.

In the past, I have suffered from over-enthusiasm. Why have a few potted flowers when I could have a balcony full of them? Why stop at flowers? Why not some strawberries? And a few herbs? And wouldn't a little tree look fabulous right about there? I'd get the seeds started or the tender plants potted and...WHAM! Summer.

Not being a proficient gardener is a huge problem when more is required than plant the seeds and water the dirt. These plants required fertilizer, those needed more direct shade. This bunch have to be pruned, that batch should be potted in a special soil and covered with organic mulch. Somehow, I always managed to put the shade lovers in the sun, keep the damp-soil lovers over watered and used the wrong soil entirely for others. The dry heat of Las Vegas summertime also clashed with my near pathological aversion to sun, heat and sweat (mainly because my lazy bones refused to wake early enough to tend to the growing things in the early part of the day). Thus...all my beautiful plants were toast by June.

Yet every Spring the urge resurfaces. This year, I was determined to try again, mostly for the sake of my two-year-old daughter. I thought it would be a good way to teach about growing things, and later about preparing the things you've grown for food. But I also decided that I would play it a bit more safe. Despite my urge to buy every type of vegetable, fruit and herb in the garden center, I decided to curb my enthusiasm and grow only the ingredients to make salsa.

After scoping out my teensy back yard for the spots with the most sun exposure (a very short list), I headed to the Lowe's nearby to see what they had to offer. Advice from others who do this sort of thing year after year led me to purchase seedlings rather than seeds, as I had waited a bit too long in the year for those to be fruitful. I looked over all of the plants carefully, and finally made my selections.

I chose three different tomato plants. The Early Girl, a slicing tomato, because the dear Kathryn Hall recommended them for a quick return on investment; The Mortgage Buster (a nice, big fat slicing tomato), because my parents gave me a Topsy Turvy planter and I thought it would look nice with fat, red fruits on it; and a cherry tomato plant, because my daughter is crazy for tiny tomatoes (though her tastes run more to the grape tomato).

Moving on to onions, there were few choices outside of the green bunch variety. I was looking for more of a yellow bulb onion, but no dice. I did find a Walla Walla sweet onion, though, and that sounded like a winner. Next, I weighed the options for peppers. Ultimately, though serranos, poblanos and habañeros looked exotic, I went with the good old jalapeño. After all, I had never really used the others before, and would hate to have a crop of chiles I didn't know what to do with (or worse, didn't like).

Rounding out my crops for the season was a bunch of cilantro (an herb I 'm not overly fond of, but will use in small batches, especially in pico de gallo). Staying true to my impulsive nature, however, I somehow ended up with two little strawberry plants as well.

My other new friend Lucy Jones made it plain that only organic soil would do, so my next stop was the giant bags of dirt stacked up head high on pallets in the corner. I always kinda thought dirt was dirt was dirt, but that's clearly not true. After much head scratching, I settled on a Miracle Gro Organic soil that had pictures of healthy, happy veggies on the bag.

Aside from the Topsy Turvy, I had no container for my little garden. One website I had consulted recommended a large, shallow bowl, so I set off to find one amongst the terra cotta pots and 30-gallon barrels. Unfortunately, the best I could do was a terra-cotta colored plastic bowl, and a little herb pot for the cilantro. I had a hanging basket from a pothos that had passed away years ago, and I thought that might do for the strawberries, so my excursion was complete.

After the bored cashier rang up my purchases and we placed them carefully in the trunk, I remembered that I needed one more piece of equipment rather urgently. I didn't recall seeing what I needed at Lowe's, so we moved across the parking lot to the Walmart Garden Center.

Besides having a teeny-tiny back yard, I also have absolutely no overhangs, rooflines or ledges from which to hang my Topsy Turvy, so creativity was called for. While visiitng my family in Phoenix, I was absently gazing at the hummingbird feeder in their backyard when I noticed what it was hanging on. My mom told me it was called a shepherd's hook, and I knew that it was the answer to all my prayers. There in Walmart, a rack of such devices waited patiently near the tomato cages.

After a bit of hemming and hawing, I ultimately went with the 84" tall double hook (thinking that the higher the planter, the more sun it might get). On my way out the door, a bunch of yellow onon bulbs caught my eye. How could I not add it to the purchase? It was just what I needed.

Later, at home, as I unpacked the little seedlings and put them on the patio to wait for morning, I couldn't help but feel a bit nervous. These little lives were in my hands now. In a few months, there would either be a bounty of veggies (and lots of yummy salsa), or another failed experiment. I looked at their tiny green leaves, so vibrant and trusting, and said a little prayer that this time, it would all go right.