Cucurbit, from Cucurbitaceae, is a useful word! How else would you refer to the large squash-and-melon family that includes winter squash like acorn and butternut, summer squash like zucchini, pumpkins, gourds, melons (cantaloupe, watermelon, and so on), cucumbers, even the fruit that dries out to become loofah sponges. All the same plant family, all with similar-looking leaves and sprawling vined growth. I’ve on and off wanted to learn the scientific Latin-word plant classification system. I’ve even semi-memorized the basics more than once, then soon forgotten, because there’s no actual use for it in my day to day. But some terms, like cucurbits, do come in handy…
Veggies
Spinach in the field
Yay, spinach! Seeing direct seeded crops germinate is one of the most satisfying things in the field. Here, it’s spinach, Reflect variety, seeded a few days ago, coming up nicely. In general, seeds do germinate, that’s a good starting point. But there are lots of variables, and the unpredictable weather extremes that have become the new normal don’t help. Is the seed new this year, or has it been around for a year or more? What conditions does the particular veg like: ground always wet until germination, soil temperature not too low or too high, seed not too deep or too shallow, and so on. It sounds more complicated than it is, only because, as a tiny farmer, you have little control over any of it. You lay seed down at a reasonable depth, water it in, watch, hope for the best, and prepare to reseed if things don’t go your way!
Looking tiny by comparison, you can also see redroot pigweed seedlings popping up. They’re easy to handle if weeded early. Otherwise, a no-joke garden invader!
Tomato seedlings compared
The Big Beef tomatoes on the left look so much bigger, healthier, greener, than the ones right, and they were planted a couple of weeks later. Both are in the same sized plug sheets. Both get the same time under the lights and out in the sun. Hmm…
This year, I’ve been planting smaller quantities more often, to see how a small batch approach works in our unpredictable weather. Instead of putting in four rows of carrots now, I’ll put in two now and two more in a week or so. It’s an experiment. The hard part is actually keeping track of the observations over time, so that later, there’s…data. More to come!
Lettuce pops!
“Pop” isn’t the most elegant, poetic word, but that’s what I thought the first time I noticed how plants can suddenly shoot up overnight. It’s feels like magic, especially when you’ve been obsessively focused practically hour by hour on their progress, as I was in my first year of farming. Crops are growing slow and steady, then you turn around for a minute and they’re suddenly transformed: bigger, more vibrant colors, next level! As if they POPPED into a new form, like in a cartoon. Plants can pop right through their growth, from when they’re tiny seedlings (some, like corn and pole beans, grow so fast in the field that you can imagine staring at them for a while and being able to actually see them grow). It might not seem like much to look at, but to the watchful eye, these lettuces just popped. Nice!
Garlic: the bug’s eye view
Another cloudy day. The garlic is still the only thing to see as far as crops in the field. It’s looking quite happy and healthy. That’s good!
A day in the sun
I’ve been hardening off trays of seedlings over the last few days, a few at a time, taking them out from the under the lights. Today, they were all outdoors, some for their first taste of the sun. It’s a manual routine, walking back and forth from the light racks with one or two trays at time, then bringing them back in in the early evening. I like it: a clear, simple, straightforward task, and the most important thing to do when you’re doing it. This is also exactly the type of routine that’s perfect for automation, or at least, optimization.
To grow a fair bit more than this year, I would put seedlings out in an unheated greenhouse where they’d stay until transplanting. That brings more convenience and efficiency, and also a few extra concerns. Voles tend to burrow in and munch on greens, so checking the perimeter becomes a thing to do. Daytime temperature in the greenhouse shoots up to 40°C+ (104°F+) on a sunny day, so ventilation is a must. When you open the doors in the day, you have to close them at night against cold and critters, and open them again early the next day. If the forecast is for freezing overnight, row cover placed in the evening and removed in the morning can handle a few degrees below (in a more extreme cold situation, a portable heater fired up in the middle of the night might be necessary).
Then there’s the new super-high winds that started happening around here within the last five years or so, there’s extra concern about the whole greenhouse staying up—mostly not in your control, but you still think about it with every weather warning!
Nothing wrong with scaling up and improving efficiency, while every step to bigger has its complications!
Baby zukes
A little less than a month after germination, these summer squash—a variety of zucchini called Raven—seem pretty happy under the lights. They still haven’t seen the sun, which sounds a little weird when said like that. I’ll soon start putting them outside during the day, getting them ready for the field. (The “29” on the plant label at the top left is how I keep track of which seedling is what, in my recently revised and simplified seedling marking system…)