July to November
Posts from July 27 to November 23, 2022
By Peter Heffelfinger
posted November 23, 2022
With the advent of cold weather, the winter garden comes into its own.
Broccoli, Romanesco cauliflower, red and green cabbages, as well as Brussels sprouts, emerged a month ago from their summertime tunnel of floating row cover and have formed mature heads. An Italian variety of leaf broccoli, Spigariello Liscia, now a 4-foot tall bush resembling broccoli Raab, was also under row cover during the summer. I uncovered the Liscia along with the other brassicas, but the slender leaves at the top were slightly nipped by the recent cold, so it went back under its white fabric.
Romanesco and peppers
The semi-hardy Mizuna Japanese mustard, the fall turnip greens, as well as the White Icicle radishes, have been picked steadily for the past month; they now need covering as well against the nighttime temperatures hovering around 32F. Nearby, the slow-growing but very hardy mache is just beginning to spread, perhaps planted a bit late, but it will slowly expand during the warm spells.
For a successful winter garden, you have to plant the brassica starts in mid-summer, and protect them from the start with a secure row cover against the endemic cabbage root maggot fly and the fluttering, white cabbage butterflies. A few butterflies managed to sneak inside the cover this season, but given the large number of plants in a wide row 40 feet long the overall damage was limited.
With the extended summer drought I had to water heavily every 2-3 days to keep the plants thriving and to prevent bolting. In the closed, moist environment under the row cover, however, the potato bugs and the small grey slugs proliferated, but affected mostly the lower, ground-level foliage. As the intense summer growing season extended into early fall, the brassicas grew immense, tropical-sized leaves before maturing. Fortunately the garden relies on an artesian well drawing from the south side of the Mt.Erie/Whistle Lake drainage.
The semi-hardy leafy greens need to be planted starting in mid-to-late August and into early September to attain a productive level of maturity before the cool weather sets in. With row cover protection, they grow slowly through the winter, offering a steady supply of leaves and roots. Essentially, the garden never really sleeps; you have tender greens all winter long in spite of the cold temperatures.
Other more hardy leafy crops include Winter Bloomsdale Spinach, which will survive handily even exposed to the snow, as well as Tah Tsai Tatsoi, an Oriental mustard that grows in a tight crown low to the soil. The fully hardy kales and collards also stand up to the cold on their own, and in very early spring form edible buds when not much else is producing in the garden.
I rely on a bed of leeks for a steady winter supply of fresh alliums. This year the leeks were hit by orange rust during our extended warm spell in early autumn, but I kept removing the outer, more affected leaves to slow down the spread of the spores. The recent cold, which finally eliminated any lingering red fungal spots, is another advantage of winter gardening: less disease, particularly fungi, as well as fewer insects. Aphids, however, will always be a problem, emerging in winter warm spells to infest the tender growing tips of Brussels sprouts and other brassicas. Remove aphids quickly using a mild detergent spray before they spread to new spring seedlings.
Winter Cover Crops
The first cover crop, a mix of annual rye, clover, and Alaska peas, was sown in mid-September; it also needed lots of watering to sprout during the fall dry spell. Another late cover crop was sown in mid-November inside the hoop house, once the tomato, cucumber and pepper plants were removed. With the cold nights but relatively warm sunny days, the plastic cover will stay in place just long enough to sprout the rye. Once the cover crop is up, the plastic cover will be removed to expose the crop to the winter rain. It’s the hoop house’s final extension of the fall planting season.
The Hoop House
Built in 2014 with heavy duty, nursery quality plastic, the hoop house cover has lasted at least 8 years, which was well worth the added investment. It is securely held in place by horizontal panels of wiggle-wire at the mid-point of the arched hoops along each side; exterior carpenter clamps as needed during windy days; and two 40-foot long plastic pipes on the bottom side edges that can be secured to the ground at night, and easily rolled up for ventilation during the day. The ends and doors are opened up during the day and closed at night to keep in the warmth. The plastic is removed in the winter to prevent storm damage and deterioration from exposure to UV light.
Overall, the plastic-covered hoop house is a relatively recent innovation that enables Northwest maritime gardeners to reliably ripen tomatoes, all kinds of sweet and hot peppers, tomatillos, as well as bumper crops of cukes. The hoop house protection enables slow-ripening peppers to be harvested late into October. The sweet peppers were roasted and then frozen in small packets, while most of the hot peppers were dried. The habaneros were made into a Louisiana-style hot sauce, kept in the fridge for immediate use. I’ve tried to grow melons several times, but not successfully; I leave them to the farmers’ market growers who are further inland and away from the cool evening onshore mists that roll in during the summers on Fidalgo Island.
After several years of using a small, simple dehydrator for cherry tomatoes, this fall I borrowed a large, ten-tray dehydrator with a fan, temperature control, and a timer. I was able to easily process 40 lb. boxes of pears and apples, all the varieties of hot peppers from the hoop house, as well as several trays of Juliet cherry tomatoes, a large, oval variety that dries well. I also tried other varieties of cherry tomatoes. Principe de Borghese, an Italian heirloom cherry tomato for sun-drying in warmer climes, produced much smaller and less abundant fruit. Yellow Pear cherry tomatoes were moderately sweet, but too small to dry. They do have firm skins that don’t split open when fully ripe, as is common with the popular Sungold and Sweet 100’s, and combine well with tomatillos for salsas and chili verde soup.
Juliet cherry tomatoes
Dehydration preserves large amounts of fruit quickly without cooking, canning, or freezing. The Bartlett pears didn’t come out quite like the chewy commercial ones, but they were still very sweet, as were the dried apples. The dried cherry tomatoes will thicken up sauces and soups made later on from the already frozen quarts of regular tomatoes; the dried hot peppers will be ground as needed, or added whole to recipes. Overall, it was an efficient way of dealing with the cascade of fresh fruits in the fall. Plus, the freezer was already full. Note: turn the fruit over half way through to ensure even drying and put a few grains of rice in the bottom of each storage jar as a protective desiccant.
Ripened pears before slicing onto trays
Plums Next Year
Years ago as part of an oral history project, I interviewed Rosa Walrath, who had grown up on a San Juan Island Italian plum/prune farm back in the early days when the island orchards were the main source of fruit for Seattle. Her job as a child was tending the prunes on screens in the drying barns, turning them over for even drying and discarding the moldy ones. At the time, I was water bath canning jars of local Italian plums on a kitchen wood stove in an off the grid cabin; the plums turned out well, along with jars of peaches, apricots, and applesauce. Inspired by her story, I tried drying local Italian plums on screens over a small wood parlor stove, but with no success since it wasn’t consistently hot enough.
This year the plums are long gone, but I look forward to doing prunes next year in the automatic electric dehydrator that sits on the kitchen table, humming to itself and blinking off the extended hours. You do still have to turn the fruit by hand, though.
By Peter Jackson, guest columnist
posted September 2, 2022
Nature Farming represents a myriad of styles of agriculture of East Asia, originating in Japan. A large focus is on not tilling or disturbing the soil, using mulch between harvests to build soil and suppress weeds, and an ethos that sees humans as part of Nature.
(For more information, see my website Cascadiannaturalfarming.org)
There are three main routes of creating these brews but I’ll discuss two here.
First, we have the putrefactive “let things rot in a bucket” Green Manure, a Fermented Plant Extract pioneered by the Effective Microbes Research Organization.
The making of a Green Manure Tea is simple. Place chopped-up plant material such as comfrey, horsetail, nettles, etc… into a bucket with water, using a mesh bag to fill with the greens if you want to run it through an irrigation setup. Or, if you’re like me and just haul buckets around, simply weight it down with a large rock and then cover with water.
This recipe isn’t as structured as the other two, however the volume of plant material rotting will determine its potency later. Keep in the shade, covered lightly with a cloth or a lid.
The advantages of the Green Manure Tea lies in its simplicity, the disadvantages lie in its smell, so make sure to wear gloves when applying as the smell is hard to wash off.
Variations on the general idea include adding forest soil as an inoculant, and making plant specific brews. If you’re growing crops such as strawberries, tomatoes or apples, make a liquid fertilizer from your crop residues to act as a biostimulant crafted to the plants’ specific nutritional profile. (Down in South America, Jairo Restrepo, will add fire ash, rock dusts, milk, molasses, along with the plant matter.) Dilution rates should be at least 1:100 to start, to avoid burning, with awareness that it will get more potent as it ages. If you think metrically, it will be easier to properly calculate ratios.
The second method, a Fermented Plant Extract (FPE), can be made using Lactic Acid Bacteria sources such as a salt brine or whey. The goal is capturing plant hormones and bioactive substances and a diversity of plants is encouraged.
Harvest early morning at first light to capture the most phytohormones, as they’re produced at night. Harvest abundant and vigorous fresh growing tips in the spring from plants or almost anything medicinal or edible. Fruits and flowers can be fermented for a late season blooming/budding fertilizer. Chop plant matter into 1/2 to 1/4 inch pieces.
Use two gallons plant matter, two gallons unchlorinated water, one quart molasses, one quart Lactic Acid Bacteria inoculant/ or commercial EM-1. Keep covered, stirring daily for a week and then strain through a cloth into sealed bottles for storage when pH is below 3.5 or the result tastes like a kombucha or vinegar.
Strongly flavored and medicinal values are encouraged, and a pest control variation is described in the APNAN literature called EM-5 in which garlic, hot pepper, and other spicy herbs are fermented and then stabilized with distilled alcohol and vinegar. FPE’s store for 90 days adequately in a cool dark place, but best use is fresh before that window closes (in temperate climates we probably have a longer window). 1:1000 soil drench or 1:500 foliar for application.
Rule Zero of Nature Farming is to always use what you have available, so many arguments can be had about which recipe is best suited for which bioregion. In some places, access to fresh plant matter is more seasonal, in some places sugar may be more expensive. Both recipes can be used every third watering if necessary.
After eight years of making these different recipes I prefer to teach about the FPE’s, as they’re already more predigested, still edible and can be quite tasty if made with non-toxic plants. Both of these recipes can be useful in making healthier plants in soils that may be lacking, and over time you’ll find less and less of a need to inoculate microbes or spray nutritive solutions if proper soil mineral balancing is achieved alongside continual mulching or cover cropping. If you aren’t poisoning the soil or disrupting fungal networks continuously, Nature will provide everything you need for healthy foods and healthy humans.
Peter Jackson is a lifelong resident of Fidalgo Island, and has been Nature Farming for the past dozen years. He also finds inspiration from Traditional Ecological Knowledge, Ancestral Fermentation, Permaculture, Biodynamics, Agroecology, and Syntropic Agriculture, while blending it all together into what he calls Permadynamic Bioculture. Since 2017, through his organization Cascadian Natural Farming he has hosted speakers from S. Korea and Hawaii, taught at the NW Permaculture Convergence, the Regenerative Hemp and Agriculture Conference on Orcas, and the Global Earth Repair Conference, as well as organizing the online International Nature Farming Convergence. Home Garden Consultations are available.
By Peter Heffelfinger
posted August 30, 2022
Tomato Blight: Early and Late
Tomatoes are susceptible to two different kinds of fungal blight, an early mid-season variety, and then a different late-season type. In past years I’ve only had to deal with moderate attacks of late blight, which emerged towards the end of the growing season, initially blackening the main stems and then moving onto the outer branches and leaves. Usually it only had a minor effect on the main crop of tomatoes, which had already ripened on the vine. Many of the still-green tomatoes would have enough of a slight orange or yellow tinge to eventually ripen if laid out on newspaper in a warm room. Even fully green, hard tomatoes would also eventually color up to a degree, sometimes lasting until Thanksgiving, and could be cut in half and fried until fully soft.
Early blight on tomatoes
This year is the first time I’ve had to deal with early blight, which first blackens and kills the leaves and then gradually moves onto the main stems in blotches of white. The only strategy at this late stage is to keep cutting off the affected leaf stems and removing them from the garden to inhibit the spread of the spores. The fruit is still edible, but the ripening process seems to be slowed down, given the loss of leaves, and the total yield of the crop has been reduced. Many of the already red tomatoes remain firm on the vine but don’t seem to get to the fully soft, ripe stage, even when picked and laid out on a table for several days. A few of the large Italian heirlooms got truly ripe prior to the early blight; now, I’m still waiting for the Mennonite Stripe and Heirloom Beefsteak varieties to fully ripen, as well as the standard Big Boy. The determinate Romas, being smaller bushes that have reached their full height, lost most of their leaves to the blight and are toppling over from the weight of the semi-ripe fruit.
All the indeterminate vines are still producing suckers and new foliage at the top, but the main leaf area has become a mass of blackened and dead leaves. The early blight emerged about a month ago, about the same time that the local maples trees in shaded areas developed a white coating on their leaves, as if covered with a thin film of frost. A local retired nurseryman said it was linked to the cool night time temps combined with the heat waves. The only chemical treatment would be to spray with copper, but at this point it’s too late for that to work. Maybe next year an early, preventive treatment with copper, and then repeated applications during the season would help stave off both the early and the late blight. Since the dried, blackened leaves shatter easily as they’re removed, the spores are already getting into the soil and will emerge again next year.
For now, I’m preserving as many of the tomatoes as I can, processing them skins and all and freezing in quarts. To sweeten the mix up a bit I add a number of fully ripe Sungold and Yellow Pear cherry tomatoes, which fully ripened much earlier and were initially less affected by the early blight. I’m also drying two types of larger, more oval cherry tomatoes: the Italian heirloom Principe de Borghese, originally bred for sun-drying, and the modern variety Juliet, which given its classical name is perhaps a related Italian descendent. As an experiment I’m also drying the small Yellow Pear cherry tomatoes, which aren’t as sweet tasting as the Sungolds but have more solid flesh. Trying to cover all the tomato bases.
Fortunately the pepper plants adjacent to the tomatoes are not affected by the blight and are producing bumper crops that are healthy so far. I harvested a large number of mildly hot Green Padron peppers, which I roasted in safflower oil for freezing in pouches. I’m waiting for a crop of hotter Red Padron as well as Green/Red Shishito roasting peppers. Other hot peppers include: Hungarian Black/Red: Korean Dangjo Cheongsam Yang Purple/Red peppers, similar to Serranos; a Korean drying pepper, moderately hot; Sarit Gat, a Yellow Cayenne; Bangkok Hot, a long thin, fiery hot Thai chili for sauce or drying; a slightly milder type of Habanero; Black Pearl, a decorative pepper with upright facing fruit that also ripen into very hot red edibles; and a regular Anaheim. I have already used the first ripe orange Habaneros to make Piri-Piri/Pili-Pili, a Brazilian/African fresh vinaigrette sauce made with garlic, onion and lemon juice. Definitely hot.
Red Padron Pepper
Sarit Gat Yellow pepper
Sweet peppers include the standard North Star Green/Red peppers, and three Italian varieties for roasting: Giant Marconi and Sweet Bull’s Horn, both very long green/red varieties; and Cornito Giallo, a yellow to orange tapered pepper.
Sweet Bull’s Horn pepper
My one green tomatillo plant, unaffected by the blight since it’s not related to tomatoes, is producing a steady crop. Along with the green tomatoes and green Padron peppers tomatillos are useful for making salsa verdes and a classic Mexican chicken chipotle stew. Since my cilantro plants went to seed in the heat, I have also been using the green seeds (now considered coriander) as an alternative to leaf cilantro, as well as the spice for home cured salmon gravlax, instead of the traditional dill leaf. Use what you have on hand.
The standard salad cukes are now hanging on the trellis in the hoop house. I use them mostly to make the Greek appetizer tsaziki: peeled and grated cucumber, squeezed gently to remove excess moisture, then mixed with Greek yogurt, garlic, red wine vinegar, salt and cumin. I find it’is a way of dealing with a surfeit of cucumbers before they soften off the vine. A refreshingly cool dip useful during the heat dome days.
More Fall, Winter Plantings
Late August usually provides a small window of cooler weather and perhaps a bit of light rain, an opportunity to get in additional semi-hardy fall/winter crops. This week I sowed a tapered root White Icicle radish, a Watermelon Radish that produces white globes with a bright red interior, as well as Mizuna Mustard and Purple Top Turnip. I keep the soil of the freshly seeded rows moist at first by laying down cardboard to protect against the heat of the sun. Once the sprouts surface I replace the cardboard with the black plastic open lattice nursery trays to provide a bit of temporary shade for the young plants as well as protection against the local cats that love to use the freshly turned dirt as outdoor litter boxes.
I also have transplants of an Italian leaf broccoli, Spigariello Liscia, similar to broccoli Raab, which along with the other young fall/winter brassicas is under white row cover to protect against the cabbage butterflies that are now appearing. The semi-hardy Liscia leaf broccoli, if left under the row cover in the winter will provide fresh florets, stems, and leaves through the hard freezes. Think ahead to winter in late summer.
By Peter Heffelfinger
posted August 16, 2022
The first half of August usually brings the hottest weather of summer, but the impact of climate change has brought more intense heat waves, with the daytime temperatures on Fidalgo Island consistently in the 80’s. We are fortunate, being close to the cooling effect of Puget Sound, which creates late afternoon onshore breezes that can take the edge off the heat. The nighttime temperatures, however, have been staying in the 50’s, even during the heat domes. The cool nights, a harbinger of the fall weather that will start to creep in later in the month, have also created the grey mold on the leaves of the big leaf maples as well as on the foliage of some winter squash.The vegetable gardens, however, still require a great deal of water to deal with the overall summer drought.
Watering the hoophouse paths
The basic garden watering mantras hold: water early in the day, to avoid loss of water to evaporation, and to give the plants time to absorb prior water prior to the daytime rise in temperature; use a protective mulch of some kind to protect the surface of the soil from drying out and to keep the soil moist around the root zone of the plants; and, water deeply on a regular basis, when the soil begins to feel dry to the touch at a depth of 2-3 inches, usually every 2-3 days. Watering too lightly and too often keeps the roots close to the surface of the soil, and the plants are easily dried out on hot days. For some crops that are producing heavily right now, such as pole and bush beans, I water more frequently in order to ensure a sustained crop of tender and sweet beans. Unless you’re raising dry beans or saving seed, remove any pods that get too large and tough in order to keep the plant producing more flowers.
Asparagus and Artichoke plants needing water in August
Fall and Winter Plantings
Mulching the leek beds
It can be difficult to think about fall and winter crops while it’s still high summer, but now is the final window to put in over-wintering leeks, cabbages, late cauliflower, purple sprouting broccoli, and hardy leafy greens. I water the young transplants each morning to give their still-fragile root systems moisture to deal with the intense sun and extended day length of our northern latitude. The reward in late fall and through the winter is a sustained crop of fresh produce that can be harvested from the garden even on the coldest and wettest days.
winter brassica transplants, with grid to support temporary shade cover
Other semi-hardy winter vegetables to consider, which may need some protection from a row cover tunnel, include daikon and black Spanish radishes, non-bulbing leaf turnips, hardy mustard, broccoli Raab, and cold-resistant greens such as mache, arugula, and winter spinach. There is no need to shut down the garden in late fall. The key is to plant early enough in late summer to allow the plants to reach an adequate level of maturity before the cold and short days arrive. The plants then essentially coast through the winter, sprouting fresh shoots, leaves, and buds in response to the warmer days in between the storms. Winter is the fourth season of year-round gardening.
During August one should not forget to water existing perennial beds, such as asparagus and artichokes, which have already produced a main crop, but still need doses of water to keep their root structures growing until the cool fall rains arrive. For standard crops such as corn and squash, regular deep watering is needed to keep them on schedule. I do have some late planted large sweet onions that are still green since they are in half shade, which are still getting a bit more water. The main crop of storage onions, however, has reached maturity, and the half-brown tops have been bent flat to the ground to stop further growth and dry them out in the sun. It’s important as well to know when to turn the spigot off.
Onions drying in the sun
The Hoop House
The hoop house requires a more intense and sustained regimen to keep the tomatoes, peppers, cukes and tomatillos properly hydrated. To prepare for the hottest days I covered half the roof with two 40-foot bands of light green shade cloth, made from recycled soda bottles, as a way of cutting down on the sunlight. Not a drastic reduction, perhaps 10%, but a noticeable effect on the high temps up at the ridge pole, which can easily soar to 95F and above if left unchecked. The temperature down at ground level is usually 5-8 degrees cooler. Tomato plants will drop their flowers in response to the stress of extreme heat of temps above 90F. Being perennial vines, tomatoes will generate new blossoms fairly quickly but the final crop will naturally be reduced. Pepper plants, as bushes, may drop a few flowers even in normal growing conditions, and are slower to re-flower if impacted by high heat.
Given the still-cool nights, I lower the side walls and end flaps of the hoop house in the evening to keep the temperatures inside above 50 degrees to maintain fruit-setting. I open the house early in the day since the first rays of the sun can easily jack the thermometer to 80-90F. The key to cooling the semi-enclosed space is to keep the air flowing. When the weather is consistently hot I water the beds heavily every 2 days, making sure the mulch and the soil around each plant is properly saturated. On the extreme heat days, especially when there is no wind, I take the added precaution of flooding the paths, creating shallow pools between the raised beds to increase evaporation and to make sure the deep roots get water. Two 50-gallon drums on raised platforms with gravity-fed hoses supply the irrigation system for the hoop house. So far, I’ve managed to prevent any blossom drop due to water stress, relying on a well that feeds off the water table coming from the back side of Whistle Lake. This year there has been plenty of water, but in past Augusts the flow of the well has diminished. Hopefully the increased precipitation during recent winters due to climate change will be enough to continue to supply our gardens during the now extended Mediterranean dry summers.
by Julia Frisbie, with Sequoia Ferrel
posted July 27, 2022
Ahhh, July! Finally we’re getting the heat that our corn, beans, and squash crave. They’re shooting up towards the sun. Other plants, like peas and many biennials, have quit putting on new growth and are instead focused on making seeds.
Home gardeners have a unique capacity to breed resilient vegetables. I’ve written before about why saving seed is important, and how to start. If it’s a project that appeals to you, this is a good time to keep an eye out for seeds that are ready to collect. Here are some that Sequoia Ferrel and I are noticing and saving this month.
The photo above shows Schweitzer Riesen snow peas. Sequoia writes: “I had plenty to harvest and am now letting them make seed as the plants are dying back. The peas have filled out in the pods and will be ready to pick when they start drying up. Peas are self pollinating so I’m not worried about cross pollination with my snap peas. The seed for these came from seed saved on my farm a few years back so this is the second time they have been selected for my growing conditions.”
As Sequoia noted, peas are mostly self-fertile, which makes them a great beginner seed saving crop. Suzanne Ainsworth, in her book Seed to Seed, recommends isolating different pea varieties from each other by 10 feet in order to maintain varietal purity. I laid my garden out with this in mind so that I could save three different pea varieties this year. As I noticed any off-type plants (a snow pea making fat pods, or a snap pea making flat ones, for example) I pulled them out to remove their genes from the gene pool. Here’s a look at a seed crop of peas called Waverex:
You can see that the plants are drying up, which is on purpose! I’ve quit watering them so that they can dry out before I try to store them. The pea pods’ texture needs to change from green and crunchy… to leathery… to brown and brittle before the seed harvest. Dry peas are hard as rocks. You can test if they’re dry enough by hitting them with a hammer; they should shatter rather than squish. In this variety, dried seed also gets wrinkly:
Shelling dried peas is a fun activity for kiddos. If you’re growing peas this year, and you can stand to watch them get dry and withered, try saving the seed!
If there are any green, leafy plants left in your garden from last year, check to see if they’re making seeds. My Red Russian kale has already done the deed, feeding songbirds and no doubt sowing its next generation all over my yard.
Beware of saving seed from broccoli, cabbage, brussels sprouts, cauliflower, collards, European kales, and any other plant in the Brassica oleracea species. They are insect pollinated and readily cross with each other, producing offspring that may be edible, but probably won’t be recognizable.
Sequoia writes: “Here is a Swiss chard plant going to seed. I decided to save this because it was a strong productive plant I was able to harvest throughout fall and winter and it survived without problems through our cold snap. It is a biennial so this is its second growing season. You can see in the closeup that the seeds aren’t developed yet.”
Sequoia continues: “This one [swiss chard] plant will make tons of seed! While it’s been flowering I made sure there weren’t other types of chard or any beets (which are the same species and will cross pollinate) flowering at the same time. I also have good isolation from other gardens in the larger area.”
Sequoia writes: “This is some mizuna that I have let make seed. I love mizuna in salads and it is sometimes hard to find the seeds. However these plants weren’t super vigorous and went to seed way too soon so it may not actually be a good idea to collect and plant these out. I have some new starts coming up so I will evaluate how those plants perform and maybe collect their seed if they do better. I can always spread undesirable seeds in any bare spots in the pasture because my sheep love plants in the brassica family.”
Sequoia writes: “These two lettuce plants would be good candidates for seed saving because they are both vigorous and flavorful plants that have held well as the weather warms without developing a seed stalk.” The varieties pictured are Merlot and Red Sails. Lettuce is mainly self-fertile, but because these two are planted so closely together, the resulting seed would likely be a cross. But it would probably be a good cross, so why not try it?!
Here is some of Sequoia’s fall lettuce that survived through the winter:
The capacity to survive through winter is “something I definitely want to select for,” writes Sequoia. “The flowers aren’t open yet so I will have to wait a while to collect the seed.”
Both of us are noticing lamb’s quarters going to seed in our gardens right now:
This spring/summer weed is in the spinach family, and Sequoia and I both agree that it’s delicious raw or cooked. In fact, it’s Sequoia’s favorite green. Neither of us actually collect the seeds; rather, we let this plant drop its seeds right where it stands, and trust that it will come up next spring without any interference from us.
Many plants in this family, with their characteristic umbrella-shaped seed clusters, are biennials. What you planted last year may be going to seed now.
Sequoia writes: “This is some red celery that was hardy and performed well although I have never been able to grow juicy celery. It will produce a lot of seed.”
If you planted parsley last year, check it for seed heads that look like this now:
But leave carrot seed alone; it readily crosses with wild Queen Anne’s Lace, and will not reproduce true to type.
I’m noticing seed clusters on my lovage plants, which I could save if I wanted more lovage, but I don’t:
Below is a row of cilantro that’s bolted, flowered, and is now going to seed. (It doesn’t cope well with warm weather.) But if your cilantro looks like this, don’t pull it out. Wait and observe, and when the delicate flowers turn into seeds, collect them so that you won’t have to buy seed next year.
Here are some dried-out chive blossoms. Look carefully and you will see little black seeds tucked inside them:
It’s a great time to cut these blossoms, tuck them into a brown paper bag, and put them someplace dark and dry until they’re completely crunchy. When they’re ready, shake and crush the bag vigorously to loosen the seeds, and then remove the fluffy flower remnants. The heavy black seed will fall to the bottom of the bag and be easy to collect.
If you’re interested in saving seed but not sure what you’ll do with it all, email firstname.lastname@example.org. We’ve got some big dreams of a local seed bank, and we’d love for you to be part of it!
PS: For those who are keeping track, I’ve been quiet on the blog lately. Two months ago I went into labor in my garden while squatting down to transplant some oregano and chives. We welcomed a furry, redheaded baby boy into the world six hours later. It’s too early to tell what his favorite plants are, but he smiles when the corn leaves tickle his feet, and he turns his head to catch the scent of tomato vines as we brush past them. We buried the placenta under the apple tree to say thank you to the soil. All is well.