The first round of lettuce, five days from germination, under the lights. I could have started them earlier: two weeks, three, four? It all depends on the weather, when it seems right to transplant, and when you’re hoping for the first harvest. This year, hopefully young harvestable lettuce is ready by late June, so if I can plant them out in mid-May, great! Some years, I’ve started lettuce as early as February, for planting in April in an unheated hoophouse. This time around, it’s straight to the open field. We’ll see how it works out!
timing
More onions
A last tray of onions—Red Wing hybrid red onions that did well last year—is hanging around the seedling room. What are they doing still not in the ground? Well, most of our onions—Stuttgarter-type yellow cooking, yellow Spanish, Red Wing, around 3,o00 in all—are already planted, in two sections, far apart. As I jigsawed together this season’s garden layout (now with the garden MAP), these guys just didn’t fit in the first two onion plots. So, they’ll get a bed of their own, somewhere, real soon, and we’ll see how they do compared to the others. Timing!
Filling the fields continues
More slow but steady planting out. Flat-leaf and curly parsley, started so long ago, finally hit the field by the hands of Libby and Lynn. Later in the afternoon, we started one section of potatoes. The timing this spring is…unusual. We’re still tilling and retilling sections to further break up sod, planting the same crop in two or three different spots, and staggering planting dates by waiting as long as possible, to get as much variation in conditions as we can. It’s hedging bets in a new market garden…
Transplanting team…
Another big Friday showing of people in the field: Chris, Libby, Jordan and Lynn transplant broccoli and cauliflower, while Andie is on a solo rototilling mission in the other field. Later, everyone got together to plant a few hundred onion seedlings and sets. And some other stuff got done.
Although we’re in the thick of it as far as timing and weather and urgency to get things out, our spring schedule is slower than it could be, and the field days are so far fairly laid back. Slowing things down is the start-up stuff: a ton of tillage to do (working in the grassy remnants of last year’s hay field), water for irrigation to put in place, electricity to run, chickenhouse to build, and a long list of other basic things that we have to put in place along with starting the season’s crops. Getting it all rolling together on this new farm, now that’s fairly intense!
Spring garlic?
With the timing of the move to the new farm, there was no fall garlic planting for this year. Very sad—over the last three seasons, we’ve grown 2,000-3,000 bulbs a year, it’s a much-loved crop all around (starting with me!), and it’s been the very first sign of new veggie life as the fields wake up every spring. Oh, well, we should be back to full-on garlic this fall!
Meanwhile, what we have INSTEAD is about 200 of the toughest, most I-will-survive garlic cloves ever, going in today for a really late start, late even for spring planting! After long months of storage, and an accidental total freezing, the loss of garlic I’d been saving was pretty huge, these 200 out of maybe a thousand.
The guys who made it got an overnight cleansing and rejuvenating bath in a mild solution of baking soda (anti-fungal) and kelp extract (boost), and they’ll be quickly rinsed in alcohol just before going in. Especially for this small, late planting, all this prep probably doesn’t matter much, but they deserve it (personify and pamper your seeds and plants when you can, it’s friendly, until you harvest and eat ’em!).
So, it’ll be a first-hand test of whether it’s worth planting spring garlic at all. From what I’ve heard, chances are we’ll get at best smaller, later bulbs, some misfires with no bulbs forming, and the same great garden-grown garlic taste! We shall see…!
Jostling tomatoes
Tomatoes that appeared in their 200-cell trays only a couple of weeks ago are already competing hard (using the old let-my-leaves-overlap-yours tactic) with their neighbors, fighting for a place under the fluorescent sun. A month ago, every seedling looked like a little miracle to be celebrated. Today, they’re an insistent, unrelenting horde, pressing for better conditions NOW. The timing pressure is starting to mount, with the greenhouse to finish and field preparation (aka sod-busting) ongoing. The calendar is getting ready to flip a page, and the 15-day temperature forecast is pointing UP. At this point, after the long wait of winter, and the slow ease into spring, everything suddenly moves so FAST. Remain calm! :)
Seedlings on the move
Seedlings seem to expand in spurts, like these Vittoria eggplant, growing quietly for two weeks or so since they first appeared, then suddenly reaching out to touch their neighbors practically overnight. Even the tomatoes, a week old in 200-cell trays, will soon be getting crowded. In just a few more days…
I haven’t yet stumbled upon or otherwise discovered the absolutely best time to transplant up. Generally, I try to move plants to bigger containers before their leaves start to overlap and steal each other’s light. But in practice, since potting up means the same number of seedlings take way more space, the timing ends up being determined by how much room there is under the lights.
The first plants started, in late winter-early spring, tend to also be quite cold-hardy—onions, the brassicas, various herbs—so they can usually be moved out to the unheated/barely heated greenhouse in March and April, making room under the lights for the next wave of seedlings. This year, until the greenhouse is set up, as the seedlings expand, there’s nowhere for them to go. Gotta get that greenhouse up!