Archives for posts with tag: replanting

The basil plants are starting to crowd out the adjacent eggplants, in spite of our frequent harvesting of the large, aromatic leaves.  To clear out a bit of space between them and give the eggplants a better chance to expand (they still have not set any fruit), we pulled out two entire basil plants.  Both had wide and deep root systems; clearly, the conditions below the soil are as good as they are above it.  With the abundance of basil leaves, Rachel made two batches of pesto, one to eat now and one to freeze (and eat later).

The basil plants that have been growing indoors (see May 12, 2013) have become pale and anemic.  Apparently, three stems are too many to live in one small pot.  Therefore, we relocated them to the space in the east planter vacated only recently by the lettuce.  Into this spot we also moved the basil plants that had been living (both in pots and in the ground) in the adjunct herb garden on the patio (see June 29, 2013).  As expected, they had not been getting enough sun.

At the back of the east planter, the tomato vines continue to reach above the top of their cages and, with the development of fruit on almost all of their branches, have become top heavy.  We took another pass at them with the clippers and trimmed the remaining main stems as well as many of the larger branches and suckers.  Even with their main stems truncated, the tomatoes will need additional pruning to keep them in control.

Over in the west planter, something continues to nibble away at the cauliflower leaves, making them look more like lace doilies than vegetable plants.  Whatever is doing it munched a few turnip leaves while they were at it.  I can’t say I blame them; turnip greens are delicious.  For what it’s worth, I sprayed everything with an herbal bug repellent.  It’s hard to believe that something that smells so good to me can be abhorrent to insects.

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I got what I asked for (see June 25, 2013) and summer arrived in spades on the Fourth of July.  We’ve had mostly 90-degree days ever since.  The humidity is high and it rarely gets below the 70s at night so almost needless to say, our pool—and our one small air conditioner—are getting a lot of use.

We’re a bit exhausted but the vegetables seem to be enjoying it.  The tomatoes, peppers and eggplant are all heat lovers and are growing by leaps and bounds.  The squash and cucumbers are also looking pleased with the warmer weather.  We have not had any rain to speak of so I have been careful to run the water every day (the remaining heads of lettuce get a mid-day sprinkling as well) to keep anything from drying out.

Not everything is responding well to the heat, however.  The arugula has been struggling to get beyond the seedling stage even with frequent watering.  And some of the carrots and beets have been in the ground since April.  The carrots in particular are looking a bit scraggly and are probably in danger of bolting.  So we decided to pull out all but the last row of carrots and turnips.

We were not surprised to find the turnips large and meaty—they have been performing well all season—but we were positively ecstatic to discover that the carrots had quietly grown to normal size.  We planted a mixture of seeds that were marketed as a rainbow of colors but comprised only red, orange and yellow, the Roy in Roy G. Biv (I guess that puts us on a first name basis with the rainbow).  Of these, the red grew the largest (and sweetest).

In the space left behind, we transplanted a six-pack of cauliflower seedlings that we purchased a week or two ago from a small, family-owned garden center nearby.  Of the Bishop variety, the seedlings have been toughing it out in their plastic container waiting for an opening in the garden.  We arranged them in a staggered row, loosened their root balls and buried them up to their first set of leaves (their stems had gotten quite long).  These are the only vegetables we did not start from seed and it will be fun to compare the outsiders’ progress to that of the natives.

Between uprooting and planting, we noticed that something has been getting into the basil and nibbling on the leaves.  I can’t say I blame whoever is responsible—the basil is incredibly lush and irresistibly fragrant—but I will say that they are not very tidy.  Several of the basil leaves are covered with scat (frass might be a more appropriate term).  We clipped and discarded the affected leaves and reminded ourselves to carefully wash whatever basil we use.

Anybody keeping track of what’s going on in our garden (and everybody’s keeping track, right?) may have noticed:  No herbs!  (Not counting the basil, of course.)

Why?  Well, for one thing we got a late start with our indoor growing.  Herbs like thyme, oregano and sage, which take a long time to germinate and slowly develop to transplantable size, are best started in early January.  We didn’t plant our first seeds until the end of March (see March 24, 2013).  At that time, we were more concerned about tomatoes, cucumbers and squash than additional herbs.

Since then, with everything else we have been doing—planting, watering, nurturing, potting up, setting out; oh, and removing sod and placing cedar mulch—there just hasn’t been time.  Whenever we stopped to consider planting the herbs, we always concluded that there was something else more pressing that needed to be attended to first.

And there is also the question of where to plant them.  The adjunct herb garden of last year (on the concrete stoop outside one of our house’s doors) is no longer easily accessible.  My office is located just inside the door and my desk blocks it from opening.

The corner of the back porch, where we grew herbs two years ago, is now occupied by a bright yellow hibiscus plant in an intensely deep-blue ceramic pot (a gift from a friend; thank you!).  We tried placing a pot or two of basil beside the hibiscus but decided that it looked too busy and detracted from the flowers’—and the pot’s—simple beauty.

Meanwhile, at the other side of the house, several existing herbs from years gone by are staging a modest comeback.  Two of them—chives and oregano—we planted several years ago and left for dead after their first season; they’ve returned every year since.  Another three—thyme, tarragon and sage—we transplanted from the pots they grew in last year.  This spot, in partial shade all day, is not ideal for herbs but apparently it is good enough.

So, that’s where we’ll grow our herbs this year.  To fill out the space, we added spearmint and rosemary, the only plants we’ve purchased so far this season.  We would have transplanted our spearmint and peppermint from last year, but neither of them survived (which is odd because I consider mint an aggressive and invasive herb).  Finally, we nestled two pots of basil (ones we couldn’t give away) in among the other herbs.

This herb garden makes a pretty picture and, if it is successful, will be much more convenient to the kitchen.

The lettuce seedlings in the last three spots I planted (in the third go ‘round) have vanished, lost to overwatering (by Mother Nature, not to point a finger or anything) or, perhaps, too much sun (ironic, given how cool it has been lately).  This late in the lettuce’s season, I will say “uncle” and not try (again) to reseed.  On the other hand, the lettuces from the first sowing that I replanted last week (see June 14, 2013) are doing quite well.

And luckily, we still have excess heads of both types of lettuce from that first planting; enough, in fact, to transplant one to each of the bare spots.  After doing just that this morning, we now have 16 lettuce plants safely on their way to maturation.  Some of them are almost ready for partial harvest and, soon, we’ll start clipping leaves (the cut-and-come-back method of harvesting) for as long as the cool weather lasts.

It’s early for a season recap but even so, I will have to start thinking about what might work better next year.  My initial thought is that we might want to start the lettuce indoors next year.  We chose not to do so this season based on the belief that transplanting the seedlings would be problematic.  I have found, however, that once they reach a modest size (three or four leaves), the lettuce plants can be replanted easily and effectively.  The compartmentalized seed trays we use will further facilitate the process.

Alternatively, it is possible that the lettuces would do well in containers.  The pots would have to be large enough for several heads to fit but small enough to be easily moved out of the pounding rain or beating sun.  Translucent covers might also be a good idea and more manageable with a smaller container.  Further, with this approach we might be able to grow the lettuce in warmer conditions.  If so, we could start experimenting later this year.

Ideally, we would have mature lettuce at the same time the tomatoes are ripe.  That’s right:  I’m thinking BLTs.

Yesterday, it rained and rained, through the night and into this morning.  More than an inch and a half had accumulated by the time the storm passed.  There will be no need to run the water for several days.

With the soil in the planters moist (but not soggy) and the sun finally shining (but not too brightly), it seemed like a good time to redistribute the lettuce seedlings.  The first seeding was very successful and there are two, three or even four heads growing in each spot.

On the other hand, three of the spots from the second and third seedings are bare (with three others likely to become empty soon).  Using a trowel, I dug a large hole in one of the vacant spots and then scooped out a lettuce plant, taking a generous clump of soil to protect its roots.

I carefully placed the lettuce plant into the hole and then used the displaced soil to fill the newly-created void.  Of course, there was not quite enough soil from the first hole to completely fill the second.  Digging holes is not a conservative process.

Regardless of how careful I am in containing the spoils from each excavation, a small portion always gets lost.  The remainder becomes more compacted and the result is a slight depression anywhere I have dug.  As with friction (which always acts in opposition), this phenomenon is unyielding and immutable.

After repeating the process a few times, the budding heads of lettuce are now spread out over most of the lettuce patch.  I’m not sure how the transplants will react to the move but I’ll keep a close eye on them to insure they do not dry out.

So maybe we don’t bother trying to grow lettuce next year.

The third round of lettuce seedlings have sprouted but not every seed and not at every location I planted.  I’ve kept them covered and moist (if anything, we’ve had too much rain lately) but there is nothing but bare soil in some of the spots.

And the seedlings that have sprouted are so very small and fragile.  The romaine lettuce sends up a stem that is no thicker than a few strands of hair.  It is easily knocked over by wind or beaten down by rain.  The red leaf lettuce is not much hardier.  Even in fair weather, the miniscule sprouts are susceptible to burning in the sun.

Meanwhile, one of the second planting of red leaf lettuce has disappeared.  I’m not sure if it disintegrated in the heavy rains or was melted in the heat, but it is no longer anywhere to be seen.

Not very encouraging.

On the other hand, the first planting of lettuce seems to have turned a corner.  The individual heads are getting larger daily and are sending out new leaves.  We will soon have to eat the excess or transplant it elsewhere.  Given our lack of success with subsequent sowings, the latter is most likely.

A friend of Rachel’s brought us a pot of Italian arugula seedlings (she took some of our surplus vegetables) and perhaps we will plant them with our other lettuces.  The arugula is already established (and easily recognizable with its narrow, jagged-edged leaves) and, according to the friend, very easy to grow.

The seedlings from the second round of lettuce planting have not been doing very well.  They popped up quickly enough but despite frequent watering, they are taking a beating from the relentless sun of the last few days.  It was unseasonably hot over the weekend—with temperatures in the 90s—and a few of the tiny seedlings have already withered in the heat.

If the attrition continues, we may have to reseed.  There should still be enough time to get a crop harvested before the average temperature increases above lettuce’s comfortable range.

Or, we might try Rachel’s idea to transplant—carefully—some of the heads from the first lettuce planting.  That sowing was more successful and there are three or four small heads growing in each location.  We will need to thin them anyway (our plan is to let only one or two grow larger) and rather than eat what we cull, we might fill in the gaps in the second planting.

Almost overnight, the eggplant and bell pepper seedlings went from looking too small to transplant to seeming too big to remain in the seed trays.  It has been over a month since we started them from seed (see March 24, 2013) so it is no longer too soon to pot them up.

With these deadly nightshades, we did not overplant, at least not by as much as the tomatoes.  We sowed 16 eggplants and eight each of the two types of bell peppers (okay, maybe we did plant too much).  But we also had the lowest success rate with only three of four seeds germinating.  Of the seedlings that have survived, perhaps a third have not grown to significant size.

So it was much easier to decide which seedlings to pot up and much less traumatic to throw the rejects onto the refuse pile.  We followed what has now become standard procedure by filling pots with soil/compost mix, forking the seedlings from tray to pot, lightly watering them and, finally, topping off the pots with more soil.

Halfway through the operation, we ran out of plastic pots and switched to some small terra cotta pots that we had on hand.  We purchased them several years ago to use as votive candle holders and they have never held plants.  After washing them, we had to drill drainage holes in their bottoms with a masonry bit.

We decided that while we were mobilized, we would also pot up the basil plants.  The seedlings are not really that big but their broad, almost circular, leaves are spreading and that makes it difficult to water them (the leaves cover the small soil surface of each tray compartment).

After transplanting five of the diminutive (but unmistakable) basil plants, we ran out of the small terra cotta pots.  Luckily, we had several larger terra cotta pots available (I don’t remember what we originally had planted in them or why they are now empty but I’m happy we kept them).  We filled six and were able to fit three seedlings in each.

At this point, we had transplanted more than 20 basil plants.  Only 40 to go!

We next looked to last year’s herb garden for containers.  With everything else going on in the garden, we have not planted any herbs other than the basil (more on this later, probably).  Consequently, all of the containers in the adjunct garden (on a concrete stoop outside a door we no longer use) are lying fallow.  We chose two of the more decorative pots—one octagonal, the other rectangular—and planted them with three and four (respectively) seedlings.

That still left us with half a tray of basil seedlings.  Rather than try to find more pots for them, we’ll just leave them in the tray and bring them upstairs to the dining room.  For the next few weeks, when we need some basil for a salad, sauce, or sauté, we can simply snip off an entire plant and throw it in.

And if we need an uplifting dose of aromatherapy, we can lean in close to the tray and inhale.  The scent is intoxicating.

The tomato and squash seedlings that remain in the seed trays are getting too big (the basil, eggplant and pepper seedlings, on the other hand, are not quite big enough).  I think we will be giving some away so I decided to pot up the best specimens.  Following the same procedure as before (see May 4, 2013), I transplanted as many seedlings as would fit in the drainage trays.

Deciding which seedlings would live and which would not was difficult.  As the proud poppa, they all look beautiful to me!  I tried not to dwell on it, however, and made the decisions quickly.  I gave preference to the two types of cherry tomato (which should be easier for part-time gardeners to grow) and was prejudiced against the Brandywines, both red and yellow (which I understand are the most difficult).  When I was done, the compost pile (well, at the moment it’s a refuse heap) got the addition of some very nice organic matter.

While I was at work, everybody, whether in a seed tray or small pot, joined me outdoors for a first day of hardening off.  Before starting the potting up operation, I moved all of the seedlings to the back porch where they could enjoy some indirect sunlight (the porch is covered by the dining room) and gentle breezes (a stone wall moderates the gusts of wind that can reach the porch).  After finishing the transplanting—which took just over an hour—I returned the seedlings to their cozy indoor nursery.

Tomorrow, they will come out again, and the visits will continue over the next two weeks.  Some time next week, or maybe the week after, the seedlings will spend some time in direct sunlight in preparation for transplanting to the raised beds.  My plan is to get everything in the ground over the Memorial Day weekend.

The squash seedlings have practically jumped out of their seed tray.  They are quite tall (about four inches) and about as wide, elbowing their neighbors for space like commuters on a rush-hour subway train.

The cucumber seedlings are almost as big, in girth if not height, as are most of the tomato seedlings whose branches are spreading out even while their stems are still spindly.  The leaves are becoming intertwined and are forming a dense canopy over the seed tray.

It is time to pot up.

We had prepared for this by procuring some larger plastic pots.  We thought we would find them for sale at our local garden centers but neither the Home Depot nor the Plant Depot carries them.  The kind people at the Plant Depot did give us the few they had in their potting shed—seven 4-inch square pots—and it’s a start but not nearly enough.

I next tried the family-run nursery and market a couple of miles down the road from us.  They don’t sell them either but had many on hand (they use them in the nursery).  Theirs plastic pots are smaller (about 3 1/2 inches high) and round and I was able to cadge a stack of 65 of them from the friendly proprietress (actually, she offered them and I thankfully accepted).

Before starting, I washed the pots with diluted bleach.  After all, the containers were not new and who knows where they had been?  All joking aside, young plants are very susceptible to diseases and insects.  It would only take a small clod of soil to infect the seedlings.

We had also purchased a bag of compost which we added in equal parts to the seed starting mix that was left over from the sowing operation.  Seed mix does not provide much organic material which the seedlings need to continue their growth (they will have used up the energy in their endosperm by now).  Cutting the dense, claylike compost into the granular seed starting mix reminded me of making the topping for a fruit crisp.  I used a trowel (as opposed to two table knives or a pastry cutter) and when the soil achieved the appearance of coarse meal, I knew it was done (just like the dessert).

The squash seedlings are the largest and we reserved the larger pots for them.  We filled each with soil and I formed holes for the seedlings by pressing two fingers into the soil.  The pots were ready to receive squash plants but how to get them out of the seed tray?

My first temptation would be to grab a seedling by its stem and yank it out.  However, there is a danger of pulling the seedling’s roots out of the soil.  Also, we had read that the stems of young plants are delicate and that handling them, even gently, should be avoided.  Fortuitously, I had also read (I don’t remember where but it was online) that using a fork was a convenient way to get the seedlings out.  This made sense to me so I grabbed one from the kitchen drawer.

I carefully jabbed it into the soil of the first squash plant, a Supersett Yellow Crookneck, near the edge of its compartment.  With a firm lateral and upward motion, I lifted the fork and the entire plug of soil, bound by the seedling’s roots, came free.  It was like pulling an escargot from its shell.

With the seedling still impaled on the fork, I pressed it into one of the pots.  Rachel added another handful of soil and I packed it around the stem at the same time pulling out the fork.  By varying the pressure, I was able to align the stem roughly perpendicular to the soil surface without touching it.  Transplant accomplished.

We repeated the process for three more Crookneck seedlings and then potted up four Cavili Zucchini.  We gave them all a splash of water, recompacted the soil and topped off each pot with another trowelful of potting mix.  After the excess water had drained out, we put the pots back into the catchment tray (the same one the seed tray had been in), put them back under the fluorescent lights, and moved on to the cucumbers.

Potting up seven of the Alibi Pickling Cornichons and an equal number of Alibi Pickling cucumbers both refilled the drainage tray and depleted the potting soil.  I mixed up another batch and we repeated the entire process with the tomato seedlings.  We transplanted three of each of the six varieties, resulting in 18 pots with room to grow.

The eggplant, bell peppers and basil do not look ready to move up just yet so we will let them go for another week.  The basil seedlings are moving particularly slow and they may be able to go directly outdoors.