It’s getting crowded on the grow racks and under the four-light fixture tucked away behind (busier than one month ago). Going now, there’s tomato, pepper, eggplant, broccoli, cauliflower, Brussels sprouts, bok choi, chives, parsley, plus more to be started in the next couple of days. Right now, around 2,500 seedlings in all. The plug trays on the top shelves are 200-cell. In a couple of weeks they’ll have to be potted up to larger quarters, and depending on what size I go to, will take up 5x to 10x more space. There are also a few 128s, and even in 72s, the earliest plantings need to be moved up. Already, the light is stretched. The shoplight fixtures are really only good for two trays apiece. I’d gambled on a much warmer April so I could use the unheated greenhouse. Now, I’ll have to spot heat with the propane construction heater, which is a bit of a pain since it has no thermostat—night work. To keep everything reasonably stocky, not stretched or stunted, there’s a lot of juggling coming up! It’s great!!
Juliet’s a fine tomato!
The first tray of tomatoes is coming along nicely: Juliet (the fine saladette hybrid in the pic) and Striped German (a beautiful, big, bi-color heirloom), as unlike each other as can be, both in my top five all-around tomato picks of the last couple of years. I started this set early as a risk crop: if the weather looks at all promising, I’ll get them in the field in early May with row cover, and maybe gain a week or two on the “safe” last frost date (May 18). Hundreds of the earliest seedlings are at that stage where they have a few leaves now and are about to really shoot up! (On the lettuce-and-mouse front, no action with the traps I set out last night, and no more lettuce casualties: maybe the heady new smell of PEANUT BUTTER startled them off…for a while, at least.)
Lettuce, peanut butter and mice
Day Two of lettuce under siege. The enterprising field mice were back overnight, munching down another half dozen seedlings (by the angled bite where the stems were severed I’m pretty sure it’s mice). I stuck in white markers yesterday to mark the spots, so it would be easy to see if they’d come back for more. This time, instead of eating them or dragging them off, they just left ’em lying there. That’s plain rude. Anyhow, they’ve had their tithe, a tenth of the early lettuce. I’m all for live and let live, but if it’s them or the lettuce killed for sport, well, it’s out with the peanut butter and mouse trap surprise. (The little emerging seedlings scattered around are from some of last year’s early lettuce left to go to seed…the crop becomes its own weed!)
Vanishing lettuce
Where have all the lettuce gone? Nine little Two Stars seedlings vanished overnight with only stubs of stem to mark their place. This is a new one for early lettuce in the hoophouse, nothing similar happened in the past. It’s probably field mice (actually, voles), particularly since no leaves were left behind. I dug around for cutworms (a pest I haven’t yet had a chance to meet)—thankfully, nothing! Whatever it was, I found where mice have tunneled in (the hoophouse sits on 4x4s bolted to T-bars pounded 3′ into the ground, IOW, a wood frame sitting on the surface, easy to tunnel under), and filled the holes, which won’t stop ’em, but will be an indicator if they’re out and about tonight. Other than that, there’s nothing else to do right now, besides starting a tray of replacement lettuce, in case the munching turns into a wholesale lettuce slaughter. Let’s see what’s up tomorrow…
Germination test
For some reason, I have 250 grams each of Ramrod and Summer Isle bunching onion seed from two years ago. Onion seed is supposed to be good for only a year or two, I’m too anti-waste (and curious) to just toss it, and I don’t want to find out if it’s viable when it’s in the field and I’m counting on the crop… So, my first ever germination tests! Pretty simple: count out a good sample (I went for 100), roll ’em up in a damp paper towel, stick in a plastic bag, wait, then count and figure the percentage. Both varieties were marked 88% germination in 2005 when they were fresh. Anything close to that and I’ll use it, around 50% and maybe I’ll double seed, lower and I’ll give it away… How scientific!
Ah, the weather
It looks a lot different than it did yesterday! This overnight dusting of snow didn’t stick around for long (the ground’s still warm enough to melt it off), but the zero days and way-below-freezing nights for the next week or so, and nearly as cold temperatures forecast well towards the end of April, aren’t the greatest. Totally unlike the warm and workable Aprils of the last four years. Is this latest extreme another result of global warming, or simply…the weather (after all, cold Aprils aren’t anything new)? The lifelong farmers I’ve asked all agree that the consistently wild swings of the last three-four years is something they have never before seen. For me, going into only my fifth year of farming (my fifth year of paying real attention to the weather), extreme weather is all I’ve known! It’s…normal!
The rhubarb debacle
Debacle may be a little strong, the future of my newly established rhubarb patch is not absolutely dire, but it’s not looking perky just yet. I’ve so far managed to spot only half a dozen of the 50 odd transplants I set out last year in spring. I’d ambitiously dug up part of an ancient patch in the house garden (it needed thinning anyway), divided out a ton of roots, and planted at least 50 on 3′ centers (hopefully, I’ll be able to count ’em in a couple more weeks) in a permanent spot in the garden field. I can’t quite remember what I was thinking: eventually, rhubarb for an entire village?! Problem became the low priority of rhubarb in the busy year, upkeep of the patch got away from me, and it grew over quite heavily with grass and other weedy items. Also, fewer, denser plantings might’ve been a better idea. But rhubarb is tough, I dunno if it can be smothered by mere other plants… We’ll soon see!