Seedy Saturday Adventures

A note: I am getting back into the discipline of writing a blog; I wrote this shortly after attending the Seedy Saturday event, pressed "save" intending to read it over later, and left it for several weeks. Oops.
Anyhow, better late than never:

On Saturday March 3, I scrambled my stuff together after sleeping late, and drove out to the Britannia Beach Ron Kolbus building to attend a seed exchange and sale called Seedy Saturday. I'd heard about it a few weeks beforehand and decided to go; it wasn't until I told my mother of my plans that I realized the double (and thoroughly unintended) meaning of "seedy". Needless to say, she had a good laugh at that (and at me).

I drove up to the building, noting that I had the correct address, and turned into the adjacent parking lot.
It was full. Several cars had already made the circuit, and were heading back out, so I followed them to a slightly further parking lot, only three quarters full. Neither were small parkinglots.

So, no Mom, the event was not just attended by a few old geezers. And the only seediness involved was that of embryonic plants.

Entered the building to find a small room buzzing with chatter. Display tables for different food-related organizations lined its perimeter, and, closest to the door, a seed exchange table was set up where gardeners could drop off their extra saved seed and pick what they wanted from what others had brought.

It was an organized chaos of every imaginable type of seed envelope, with varieties ranging from cucumbers to wildflowers to squash and tomatoes.
Since I had not managed to collect a large excess of seed from the plants I saved seed from - cosmos, chives, and peas, added to the fact that I'd slept late and rushed out the door, I opted to make a donation (the alternative option to trading).

Leaving the exchange table, I ventured into a gymnasium brimming with people who clustered around the  tables set up by local food vendors, small seed sellers, and various food-justice organizations.

Harvest calculator & Seasonal Food

You could use paper and math and lots of tricky calculations with dates and months, etc.
Or you could just throw your seeds into the ground and figure they're ready when they're reading.
Or you could give this a go: my Harvest Date Calculator.

First save it to your computer, so you have your own copy of it. Click "file" go to "download as" and select "Excell", then save it to where you want it in your computer.
After that, it's pretty straightforward: simply type in your planting date, and the days to harvest (usually found on the seed pack), and there you go!

It's May long weekend - in Ontario, the traditional weekend for putting plants in the ground.
Which means that if you go anywhere in the vicinity of a grocery store, much less a garden centre, you will probably be crushed.
It also means that for a lot of people it's planting time! Woo!

I actually jumped the gun on tradition and had things in the ground last week -

Second planting & seedling updates

My seedlings have been up for about a week now and I'm starting to see their first true leaves.

On Tuesday, I replanted my lettuce (since my germination was lousy - 3 our of 9 cells the first go round) and I filled in the kale seedlings that didn't come up (this time I double planted to make sure I got something).

I also planted cosmos, globe amaranth, and poppies. I probably won't obsess so much about these, as I already have my other "babies" to watch.

Seedlings emerge

I was sitting on the bus on my way back from my English class at the University of Ottawa, wondering rather glumly what I could write about.
Since the weather has decided to be consistently Aprilish, there wasn't anything much to do in the garden - freezing nights aren't wonderful for weeds - or digging.
And of course I wasn't expecting my seeds to germinate until Thursday (a week from when they were planted). Tuesday at the earliest. I was being determinedly patient.

So when I ambled down to the basement to check on my seed trays *again*, I wasn't expecting much of anything - just some more agonizing about whether they were too damp or not and were they warm enough?
And then I saw it.
Green!
First I thought - well, that's a strange looking piece of potting mix.
No, it can't be a seedling. I'm certain I didn't plant any that close to the edge.
They're not supposed to be up yet anyhow.
But upon further inspection, there was one kale seedling:

And then another:

Planting Seeds

I knew before I opened the crisp, pretty white packets that seeds are both nondescript and marvellous.

What I didn't know before was that each type of seed has its own character - each is a little bit different from all the others.

And when you look closely, quite beautiful.

See for yourself:


Tomato seeds are dried versions of the ones what you see in all tomatoes.
They are also tiny. Not quite as bad as carrot seeds, but handling them well requires a certain level of finesse & fine motor skill which I sadly lack.
When my fingers operate on the level of a tomato seed they seem awfully blunt and unwieldy.

Kale seeds are tiny black bouncy balls. They like to hop and bounce about & they just don't want to stay put.

Heirloom Seeds - what I'm growing this year

Sometime back in the fall, by serendipity I suppose, I must have discovered for the first time what heirloom veggies are... and decided to plant them.

So what did I learn? I found out that they're old varieties of our common garden vegetables that have been passed down from posterity. Many of them are disappearing, being out-competed by hybrid seeds from big seed companies. Heirlooms have been selected not for shipping or storage potential, but for delicious taste. There are so many beautiful, strange, or colourful varieties. I can't wait to try them!

I've ordered seed packs online from The Cottage Gardener, a local Ontario farm which sells a wide & tantalizing variety of heirlooms.

Here is what I'm growing:

• Colourful Carrot Mix (purple, yellow, white, and red - how cool is that?)  
• Cosmonaut Volkov & Jaune Flammee Tomatoes (both varieties are indeterminate - i.e. vining, and the crazy Maddster is trying to grow them in pots, albeit big ones. I forsee vigilant pruning in my future.)
•     
• Five-colour Silverbeet Swiss Chard (multicoloured stems, need I say more?)