Spring in Minneapolis continues to be beautiful. Each day imparts its own tiny miracles; each day I enjoy the products of sunshine, rain, and the rich black soil that this part of the country is famous for. Observing the yards on my block (like my neighbors' above) is like watching a slow-motion fireworks display; one week, it's the tulips bursting into bloom, then the magnolia trees with their papery blossoms, and the crab apples, sour cherries, and finally the lilacs, making the whole neighborhood a heavenly-scented landscape of pastels. I can't even get over it; I think we Minnesotans appreciate it doubly because winter is so drab and miserably cold. That first day it stays above forty degrees we're out on our bikes, hot on the trail of the first robin of the season.
Our garden is actually starting to look like a garden! The peas are about six inches high, and the first batch of seedlings I started indoors were planted out on April 15th. So far, I haven't lost one! The leafy brassicas lead the pack: kale, spinach, lettuce, and radishes are in the ground, and will be keeping us in salads for the next few months to come. The carrots are coming up, trying to gain a foothold among the weeds. On May 1st, the next batch of babies will have their turn. Creeping thyme, echinacea (which haven't been doing much since the hardening-off phase began... I'm hoping they're putting their efforts into growing some good roots rather than just dying slowly), sweet alyssum (my first plants to bloom!), and spearmint are next, along with some seeds.
Meanwhile, under the growlight, my tomatoes and peppers are doing their best to recover from my first (noticeable) newbie gardener mistake. Amidst all my efforts to provide the adequate balance of light and moisture, I somehow overlooked the fact that a plant's gotta eat something. When I potted up all of my tomato guys, I put them in the same seed-starting mix that I'd planted the seeds in to begin with. At first they were happy. Then I noticed they were starting to turn purple. I thought it was sort of pretty, until the purple progressed into a much sadder yellow, and finally an alarming black on the tips of their leaves. I looked into the problem on GardenWeb and found out that purpling means they're not getting enough phosphorus. It's not a very common problem because most gardeners know enough to realize that growing plants need nutrients, and pot them up in garden soil, or compost. I promptly repotted them in a mix of potting soil and regular dirt from the yard, and now I'm watching them change back to a nice shade of green.
Gardening, like life, is a process of trial-and-error. No matter how much you read or how much advice you seek, you still have to make your own mistakes and find your own way. So far I've learned:
- You can never have enough room under the grow lights. Therefore, grow only what you really want! Some plants are not really worth all the effort because it's easy to buy satisfactory varieties at garden stores at a relatively low cost. Seeds worth starting indoors are things you can't find anywhere else: rare varieties, medicinal herbs, and plants where only organic will do. I'm glad that I'm growing "Rugen" Alpine Strawberries and horehound inside, since I can't find them anywhere, but in retrospect I wish I'd sought out some more exciting pepper and squash varieties since I think I could pretty easily find the same one's I'm growing at any Home Depot.
- Indoors is no substitute for out. Even the best indoor conditions are likely to yield seedlings slightly inferior to those started outside, as nature intended. The grow lights seem bright, but one or two little bulbs are nothing compared to the natural light of the sun. Seedlings started inside also tend to get crowded and pot-bound, and stressed from all the moving and fussing they are often subjected to.
- Don't mollycoddle your seedlings too much. Every day I try to prepare them for the conditions they'll be facing when they're actually outdoors. I start hardening them off way before most books have told me I'm supposed to - exposing them to the elements a little at a time - so that they're fully acclimated by the time I'm ready to plant them in the ground. I also read that it's a good idea to shake, flick, or otherwise harass your growing seedlings to mimic the movement of the wind. My tomatoes - purple leaves and all - are growing really thick and stocky stems as a result of this treatment. They're going to be good little fruit-producing soldiers when they get out into the garden!
Me and an alpine strawberry seedling!
