Moxie Gardener

Kale seeds ripening.

Here’s a picture of the kale plant that survived our Minnesota winter. As you can see, it’s gone to seed.

I’ve written about this kale several times before.

Here’s the post celebrating its survival over winter.

And here’s an update on its spring growth.

If you look towards the bottom of the flower stems in the picture at left, you’ll see the seed pods already formed. They look like horizontal twigs sticking out the sides of the stems.

What have I learned from this little experiment?

Kale plants will survive winter providing they are adequately covered.

You must remove the mulch in early spring, as soon as the weather begins to get above freezing. Otherwise, the leaves will wilt, become inedible, and the stem will become moldy. The entire plant will die.

Seeds will form and ripen by late spring, in plenty of time to plant for fall harvest.

The experiment will be repeated this year, using seeds that are forming right now.

But this year, I’ll use what I’ve learned.

Next spring, we’ll be eating fresh kale a month before the spring-planted greens are ready.

Will Spring Ever Arrive?

How long until the snow melts?

Winter is not kind to gardeners in Minnesota.  The worst part is waiting for the snow to melt and the ground to thaw.  It’s excruciating.

I shoveled the snow off my vegetable garden on the last day of February once.  I thought it was a good idea: the ground would thaw faster so I could plant earlier.  I planned to cover the plot with thick clear plastic to magnify the sun and thaw the ground even faster.

I chose the last day of February because it’s about a month before the ground normally begins to thaw.  You can plant seeds of the most cold-hardy vegetables—radish, spinach, and other spring greens—as soon as you can dig the soil.  I was hoping to plant about two weeks earlier than normal.

I had no idea shoveling the snow off my vegetable garden would attract so much attention.

First I noticed my neighbor standing in her patio door, pretending not to watch me.  Then her husband of sixty years (conveniently) took out the trash.  On his way back in he told me the ground was frozen and I wouldn’t be able to plant any seeds that day.  I thanked him.

My son and his friends came through the gate and wanted to know if I was getting ready to plant my garden.  I assured them I was not and they told me that the ground was frozen, so nothing would grow yet, anyway.  I thanked them too.

The phone was ringing as I got in the house.  It was another neighbor (one who hears and sees everything).  She told me her husband said to tell me I was wasting my time working in my garden because the ground was frozen.  I told her to thank him.

When my friend came by later that day, he wanted to know why I had shoveled the snow off my garden, because the ground was frozen.

He was a little perplexed when I vehemently (and somewhat tersely) informed him that of course I knew the ground was frozen.  That was the point of shoveling the snow off.  So the ground would thaw.

People who don’t garden just don’t get it.

Some of my collection of garden seeds, including many empty packages.

I’m a frugal gardener.  I don’t throw away seeds. I don’t even throw away the empty seed packages.  I keep seeds and plant them every year until they’re all gone.  Eventually, no seeds germinate.

At one point I had all of my seeds labeled and filed in a large index-card box (remember before PCs?).  I’ve slacked off in recent years and now my seeds are piled in a wicker basket and the index-card box is full of old seeds.

I admit it.  I’ve been lazy.

After documenting part of my disarray of seeds in the accompanying photo, I’m committed to organizing my collection of seeds and purging any that are no longer viable.

Here’s my plan.

First, I’ll sort through all the packages and separate those that are empty from those that contain seeds.

Next, I’ll determine which seeds are relatively new and likely to germinate.  I will conduct germination tests on seeds which I believe are too old to germinate.  (More about that below.)

Finally, I’ll re-file my seeds in my large index-card box.  I have stiff cardboard dividers and have divided my seeds into seven areas:

1. Annual flowers.
2. Perennial flowers.
3. Annual herbs.
4. Perennial herbs.
5. Cool weather vegetables.  (Plant primarily in Spring.)
6. Hot weather vegetables.  (Plant primarily in late Spring to early Summer.)
7. Other.

I find this division helps whether I’m planting seeds outside in the garden or starting them indoors.

To conduct a germination test, count out ten seeds.  Fold a plain white paper towel in half and then in half again.  Open up the last fold.  Dampen the towel slightly using a spray bottle.  Sprinkle the ten seeds onto one side of the folded paper towel and cover with the other side.  Insert into a plastic zip sandwich bag.

Don’t forget to label with variety, days to expected germination, and the current date.  Check daily and spray lightly with water if the towel starts to dry out before the seeds are expected to germinate.

I usually give seeds three to four days past the time they are expected to sprout, just in case.  At this time, open up the folded paper towel and count the number of seeds that have sprouted.  Multiply by ten, and this is your expected germination rate for the entire package of seeds.  If only 50% of the seeds have germinated, you’ll know to plant more seeds.

The growing season is too short to waste time and garden space waiting for seeds that will never germinate.  Test them and you’ll know what to expect.

I’m off to organize and test my seeds.

Pansies come in a wide range of colors, but varieties with blue, purple, and/or yellow flowers are the most fragrant.

It’s time to start pansy seeds so they’ll be ready to set out when the weather breaks.  It seems early, but it takes twelve weeks from the time they’re sown for pansies to be ready to plant out in the spring flower garden.

Pansies love cool weather and are one of the first annual flowers to bloom in spring.  Known by the Latin name Viola x wittrockiana, pansies were developed in nineteenth century England by crossing several different varieties of violas.

Pansy seeds need cool soil temperatures and complete darkness in order to germinate.  Cover soil with black plastic and remove as soon as plants emerge.  Grow under lights with nighttime temperatures in the forties and daytime temperatures in the sixties.

Whether you grow your own or purchase plants at the nursery, plant pansy transplants about eight to twelve inches apart in rich, loose soil.  Fertilize well.

Here in Minneapolis we can start planting pansies outside in about the middle of April.  As long as the weather doesn’t drop into the mid twenties or lower, pansies can handle a little frost.

Pansies aren’t really bothered by pests or diseases.  They grow about nine inches high and spread out the same width, and are available in a wide variety of colors, including two and three color combinations.

Unfortunately, pansies fade out and die off when hot summer weather arrives.  I’ve kept a container of pansies from fading in the heat by keeping it in partial shade.  It only lasted through June, though.  Once July and the really hot summer weather arrived they faded fast, despite my vigilant deadheading and copious watering.

Their flowers are edible and are often tossed into salads along with tender spring greens.  Another culinary use for pansy flowers is as cake decorations.  Just brush with slightly beaten egg white and sprinkle thoroughly with superfine granulated sugar.  Set on a rack and allow to air dry for a few hours.  Store in cookie tins with wax paper between layers.

Plant a mass of pansies near your home’s entrance or patio.  They emit a perfume-like aroma which is most noticeable at dawn and dusk.

Will these two renegade amaryllis bulbs ever bloom?

In December 2007, I bought two amaryllis bulbs from a retailer whose employees wear red shirts.  Winter is long up here.  I wanted some indoor winter bloom to brighten things up.

I brought them home and followed the instructions.  They both started growing leaves, but then only one of them grew a flower stalk.  It bloomed spectacularly in February, but broke off after only a day or two.  The entire pot fell over because it wasn’t massive enough to counter the weight of the flower stalk, which broke off in the process.  (The bulbs were already planted in lovely matching faux copper ceramic “urns” so I assumed the maker of the bulb kits knew what they were doing.  Right.)

The second bulb sent up leaves, but never sent up a flower stalk.  I didn’t sweat it, preferring instead to coax it along and have it bloom next winter (which would be now, but more about that later).

So, I have these two amaryllis plants/bulbs—one that never sent up a flower stalk and another that had its flower severed shortly after it opened up.  Into the bright, natural light they went, with me watering to keep them moist, but not wet.

Within two weeks the bulb that bloomed started to turn yellow.  Eventually all of its strappy leaves withered.  I admitted defeat, and set the pot in a dark, interior hallway (it’s more like a storage area).

The bulb that didn’t bloom continued to grow for about a month, then its leaves started turning yellow too.  The second amaryllis went into storage next to the first one.

Here it was, late March, and already my amaryllis bulbs had gone dormant.  I wondered if they’d last until fall without shriveling up.  Then I wondered if the bulbs could have stored enough energy to even grow again, let alone bloom, since they went dormant so soon after forcing.

I planned on starting the bulbs in September, but I forgot all about them until New Year’s Eve.

I was a little skeptical when I re-potted them in fresh growing medium, and added a little granular fertilizer.  I put them both into larger clay pots than the cool looking faux copper “urns” that they came in.  (I’m sure I’ll find another use for those cool looking urns.)

The picture above shows the two bulbs yesterday, one well on its way and the other just sticking a leaf tip out of the nose of the bulb.  I have no idea if these amaryllis bulbs will bloom this winter or not.  I hope so.  I hope they at least stay alive long enough to summer outside, so they can store energy and bloom next year.

Gardening forces you to be patient.  Especially in January.  When you can’t wait for spring.

Aarrrgh.