Grow Seeds, Grow!

Thursday, February 25, 2010:

This time of year, I spend a lot of time in the greenhouse starting seeds. Jeff and I have a convenient interpretation of division of labor. I let him do manly things like weedwack and tractor drive, and I do those things that require attention to detail and a special, feminine, nurturing touch. (Jeff just read that over my shoulder and claims to be able to germinate seeds as well as me, but it's simply not true. There's a reason I'm called "The Germinator" and he's the tractor driving professional.) We grow all of our plants from seed because it's simply too expensive to buy all the plants we would need to plant the whole farm - not to mention that I can grow healthier plants than we could buy pretty much anywhere. The first step in the process of starting plants from seed is purchasing the seed. Jeff and I spend a couple of months poring through seed catalogs, debating what varieties to grow, and placing our orders. We order most of our seed from Johnny's Selected Seeds, Territorial Seed Company, and Botanical Interests, Inc. Jeff learned years ago that you shouldn't cut corners where seed is concerned. You may need to pay a little more for quality, certified organic seed, but the germination and crop quality will be better in the long run.

The next step in the process is to plant the seeds! We start all of our our seeds in the greenhouse where they will be protected from the cold elements and can have a nice, uniform environment in which to germinate and start their lives. During the warmer months, seeds will germinate outside, but not so well during the winter.

I start by laying out my clean plastic six-packs and filling them with potting soil (you'll have to email me if you want me to give away what potting soil we use). I pack the soil down so that it is dense enough that when I water the soil in, it doesn't turn to mud, but instead stays pretty solid.

We use square nursery flats to hold the six-packs. Here are the six-packs before they get soil.

I add enough soil so that each cell is full of soil to the top.

After I've spread the soil into my six-packs, I use my water wand to moisten the soil. They shouldn't be sopping, just wet enough to be thouroughly moistened.

Next, I take my dibbler (hole poking device), which for me is an old jumbo nail that I found somewhere on the farm, and make either one or two small holes/indentations in each cell of soil . The number of holes depends on the plant. If they're going to grow pretty big before transplanting, then I do one hole, but if they're going to stay small, like lettuce, for example, then I poke two. Each hole should be about 1/4 inch deep, but that's not a hard and fast rule. You certainly don't need to take out a miniature ruler and measure you're depth to make sure it's just so.

This time, I made one hole in the center of each cell.

My high-tech hole poking device.

So now that you have all you're nice, tidy holes ready, drop a seed into each hole. I have a couple of different tools that I use for this, but my favorite and the one I think works the best is a pair of tweezers. If I'm starting salad mix or arugula, I do a sprinkle of seeds per hole. If it's something else that has itty-bitty seeds, I do my best to drop only one seed per hole, but I also accept that if more than one drop, I can thin later. During this stage, I do use my discretion about which seeds are planted and which are not. For instance, in any given packet of tomato seeds, there will be a few seeds that look funky. They would probably grow just fine, but I usually opt not to plant them and instead only plant the best looking seeds. This act of unnatural selection is something I learned from Luther Burbank. He firmly believed that the first step in growing exceptional plants is observation during seeding. If you want to end up with the best plants, you must begin with the best seed.

Once the seeds are deposited in their holes, I use my finger to cover the seeds gently.

Then the six-packs are covered with remay cloth and watered in. While they're germinating, the soil in the six-packs should stay moist and relatively warm.

This is the remay cloth that we always talk about. It is great for pretty much any farm use, from seeding to frost protection.

I have to be honest - like George Washington, I cannot tell a lie. Once I have seeded the seeds, Jeff usually takes over and babysits the greenhouse until the plants are big and strong enough to go outside. After all, his horticultural (greenhouse production) degree trumps my political science degree when it comes to stuff like that. I still think I'm better than him though. Maybe it's my way of coping with the rather tedious work of seeding, but I like to imagine that my intuition and intention goes a long way towards the ultimate health and vigor of the plants.

So there you have it. My method, if you will. Okay, I'll be fair. Jeff's method as taught to me and then interpreted by me. There are many other ways of starting plants by which people swear, but this is the one that works for us. There's science to it, but not rocket science. Ultimately, seeds want to grow - it's what they are programmed to do and all we humans need to do is facilitate their natural function and make the environment suitable.