THE SUNFLOWERS HAVE SPROUTED.
I am very excited. Can you tell?
The sunflowers were the only crop I planted from seed in my little garden plot. And I know, I know, it’s a seed’s job to sprout, but the thrill of seeing little green leaves popping out of the ground never gets old.
With luck, in about three months these little sprouts will show their true colors.
Truly, something to look forward to…
Three weeks ago, I finally gained access to a few square feet of earth to grow some of my own food.
Buuuuuuut then I spent the next 15 days traveling, working extra shifts, and spending time with my parents on their visit to the Tar Heel State.
Last weekend, though, I finally knew I’d have an afternoon to plant!
I just had to decide what to plant.
The first step, before any little green things could start growing my my 10’x4′ plot, was to make a plan. Brad chuckled that my obsession with organization was to blame for this, but it’s actually both important and common to plan out the garden well before any seeds or plants are obtained. Traditionally, gardens are planted in long rows with furrows in between for watering, which works very well for large plots but doesn’t really benefit a gardener with just a few square feet. So I borrowed a book from my dad called Square Food Gardening, by Mel Bartholomew. Square Foot Gardening is a guide for organizing these smaller spaces to maximize the available soil without packing plants in too closely and limiting their growth.
Next, I found a very useful page on the North Carolina Cooperative Extension website with a year-round calendar of the best timing for seeding, transplanting, and harvesting all manner of vegetables. I wonder if I’ll ever get used to living in a place where there is more than one option for planting: in Colorado, gardens are planted as late in the spring as possible, and then fingers are crossed in hopes against a surprise freeze. I made a list of the recommended varieties for a June planting and made my rounds at the farmers market nursery vendors.
What’s this? A tiny assignment plaque stuck in the ground?
An assignment plaque for a community garden plot? Yes!
My balcony containers full of plants are doing… okay… but my odds of harvesting a significant portion of my own food just increased dramatically. I just made it off the waiting list and at the Briggs Community Garden! These forty square feet will provide me with the space, the depth, and the sunlight to finally try some gardening for real.
*gulp*
Okay so I have a bit of a learning curve to climb before I plant the garden this weekend. But I have high hopes. My fellow gardeners of the neighboring plots seem to be doing pretty well…
Here’s to helping things grow!
Growing up, we didn’t have a Nintendo. We owned no boat, and we didn’t have a big screen TV. We had something much more valuable: all the fresh produce we could possibly want.
For most of my life, my grandparents cultivated an enormous garden from whence treasures of all colors and flavors erupted every year. I never saw a jar of store-bought jam in our pantry because my grandma made jam every summer with berries my sister and I picked (er, the ones that made it to the kitchen). I learned at an early age that eating peas off the vine in the humid embrace of the garden was better than any candy at the checkout line. Luckily, we lived just one hour north of this lush patch of land and could watch the garden cycle from seed to harvest.
Sadly, the recent death of my grandpa and the waning strength and stamina of my grandma leave the garden plot barren this year, save for the persistent blackberry bush and some volunteer cosmos. But that garden still holds some of my fondest memories with my grandparents, who taught me at a very young age the value of homegrown food and instilled in me an aspiration to grow some of my own.
After college, one thing I looked forward to more than any other was starting a patio garden at our first apartment in Washington DC. I was unfortunately thwarted: somehow, we managed to secure an apartment assignment with a balcony that received literally no direct sunlight. None. It was quite aggravating. The next year, I was certain that our new place across town would yield a sunnier outlook. Alas, two hours of daily commuting to a full-time job, and most days, a part-time job as well, meant that I could barely keep myself fed and watered. Besides, after deciding in late April that we would be moving to North Carolina in July, it didn’t make sense to start building an army of soil-filled containers that would also have to make the move.
And so, with no further ado, I want to take a moment to introduce you to a few of my long-awaited leafy friends. Friends that I hope will survive, and if I’m lucky, that will actually produce some extremely local food for my little kitchen.
Ta da!
Okay, so I’m not gonna get a pantry full of jars out of this. In fact, I’m gonna go ahead and say that I’ll consider this adventure a success if I get ONE tomato.
