Gardening in the Age of Covid-19: Starting Seeds in Quarantine

What a strange fucking timeline we’re in, guys. But I don’t need to tell you that. It’s taken a couple weeks, but I’m getting back into the groove of Springtime planning and planting. Now more than ever, I’m thinking about the connections between food sovereignty, community, and home gardening. And I want to talk about it all with you!

In this post, we’ll go over the basics of starting your seeds indoors on the cheap and with limited space. Next up, we’ll talk about prepping your outdoor soil for those early Spring seeds you can plant directly in the garden. But for now, let’s get started while staying inside.

Preparing Your Seed Starting Mix

I’m a big fan of these handy windowsill seed starting trays by Jiffy. They’re a cheap all-in-one solution for folks with limited indoor space, or for those who simply don’t want to mess with putting together a multi-part indoor setup. And right now, the less you need to purchase from different places, the better. They’re also very satisfying to prepare, as you just add water and watch the peat pellets plump up!

It’s important to keep in mind when starting seeds indoors that seed starting mix is not the same thing as outdoor gardening/potting soil that you might toss into your raised beds or containers. Whether you use dehydrated peat pellets, like in this Jiffy setup, or a separate bag of sterile seed starting soilless mix, make sure you’re using a medium meant just for starting seeds.

Choosing the Right Seeds

With community and pandemic conditions in mind, I chose to go the more practical route this year instead of experimenting so much. I’m focusing on Cherokee Purple tomato seeds I saved last fall, cilantro, and lemon balm for my indoor starts. I figure I can give away my extra seedlings if anyone wants them, and cilantro works with so many types of cuisine to share later on.

When deciding which seeds to start indoors, prioritize the following:

  • Plants with long growing periods
  • Plants which need to go outside only after the danger of frost has passed (for more on this, learn how to find out your frost dates)
  • Plants which require some extra TLC and care to thrive once outside
Cilantro seeds

Tomatoes are a pretty standard “start inside” kind of plant, while I’ve found that other veggies like cucumbers and bush beans do just as well being sown outside closer to the last frost date or a little later. If you have limited indoor growing space like I do, I’d recommend using your precious space for things like tomatoes, herbs, and possibly a flower or two.

You’ll probably see most seed packets say to start the seeds indoors either 4-6 weeks or 6-8 weeks before last frost, and so now’s a perfect time to get your picks going for a mid-late May planting season.

Care for Your Growing Seedlings

Cherokee Purple tomato and cilantro sprouts

It’s important to keep the soil/starter mix moist in the early days to aid in germination. The Jiffy trays I use come with a plastic dome lid to create a greenhouse-type effect and trap moisture. However, you also don’t want your seedlings to mold and die off if the soil mix is too wet. Basically, just keep a close eye and check on them a couple times a day.

This year, I left my two trays on the bathroom floor near a heating vent to make sure the temperature was warm enough. Whatever works! Once you start to notice little spouts, remove the covering and move to a windowsill.

Keep your starts hydrated, and you should be on your way to healthy little plants while quarantined. If you’ve planted multiple seeds in each pot or pellet, remove the weaker and/or smaller sprouts. You’ll also need to upgrade your seedlings at some point to a bigger cup or pot later on in the process.

Lastly, you’ll eventually need to “harden off” your delicate indoor plants before they’re able to withstand the direct sunlight and outdoor conditions of the garden. But no need to worry about that just yet. We have a long Spring to come and the time to wait.

Seed Saving 101: Preserve Heirloom Tomato Seeds in 5 Easy Steps

With Labor Day weekend in the rearview mirror and the crisp September air taking hold, I’ve been thinking about this season’s successes, failures, and any end-of-summer projects I might want to try to end on a high note. And while I’ve saved lettuce and pea seeds, I’ve never saved tomato seeds before. I thought, “Why not give it a try? Now’s the time.”

Backyard tomato heyday, circa 2015

You see, my mom is selling the house I grew up in, and I’m having a hard time thinking about saying goodbye to the humble 8’x4′ raised garden bed I built. This little corner is where my love affair with home gardening began. I cleaned it up this spring and planted peas, kale, lettuces and carrots as I have in the past. But as it exploded with weeds over the summer, a few volunteer tomato plants also fought their way to grow.

I figured saving the seeds is the best way I can honor my love for this garden, along with a few other more artistic projects I have up my sleeve. But more on those later!

Step One: Pick the Best Tomatoes for Saving Seeds

When planning to save seeds, you’ll always want to give your plants a once over and select the healthiest, best-looking fruit. I got lucky because the one Cherokee Purple heirloom tomato I grew this year was also a beauty. I’m thinking it’s also a choice specimen because it sprouted from a volunteer tomato plant, so it’s got the chutzpah and can-do attitude I’m looking for! A tomato after my own heart (and my New York/New Jersey roots).

For the last few years, I’ve gotten my tomato seedlings from the wonderful women of Rise & Root Farm in Chester, NY. Stopping by their farm in the rich black dirt region of Orange County, NY to pick up my plant babes is always a treat, and if you’re in the city, I’d encourage you to stop by one of their farmers markets! They’re a group of women committed to “building a strong local food economy” with justice and equity at the forefront. Hell yes, please.

Step Two: Scoop the Seeds

To scoop the seeds, cut the tomato in half across the middle of the fruit, i.e. not top to bottom. This will reveal all the pulpy seed pockets for easy removal with a small spoon. Now’s also a good time to take a second to admire just how gorgeous fresh food can be, like the inside of these heirloom tomatoes. They almost resemble a watery map to me with lots of little streams. Anyone else? Moving on!

Gently scoop the seed pockets into a clean jar, along with all the juice and pulp. You’ll only want to avoid getting too much of the pithy center bits, so take your time. Next, cover the jar with a double layer of cut cheesecloth and tie it around the top of the jar with twine or a rubber band.

This concoction is going to sit and ferment for three days, you’ll want to contain that smell as best you can. I was expecting the worst, but I think the cheesecloth made a big difference. Not so smelly after all! But why might you want to ferment your tomato seeds before cleaning and drying them for storage?

In a nutshell, wet tomato seeds contain an extra gelatinous outer layer that protects the seed. This gel-sac can inhibit germination, and so it’s a good idea to be rid of it for the purposes of saving viable seeds. Fermenting your seeds in a jar mimics the natural lacto-fermentation that happens when a rotting tomato drops to the dirt out in a field. This is how I got my glorious single volunteer plant! And though it’s a good idea to go through the process, it’s not 100% necessary. In a pinch, you can also thoroughly clean and dry your tomato seeds straight from the fruit.

Step Three: Clean the Seeds

If you too go the fermentation route, you should see some gentle bubbling over the course of a few days. A moldy film should also form on the top of your tomato pulp and seed mixture, so don’t be alarmed! I left my seeds to ferment for about three full days, and I don’t think you want to go much longer that that. What you don’t want to is for the seeds to germinate in the jar and moldy mixture, which can happen if they’re left too long.

To begin the cleaning process, dispose of as much of the moldy film as you can without accidentally dumping all your seeds too. Then, pour the remaining contents of the jar into a larger bowl and add cool water. Swirl it around a bit and gently pour off as much water as you can. Repeat as many times as needed, until you’re left with clear water and visible seeds.

Viable seeds will sink to the bottom, and any bad ones will float. You can dispose of those that are floating because they won’t germinate properly, and so you don’t want to save them. Once you have clear water and clean seeds, lay them out on a paper plate to dry.

Step Four: Dry the Seeds

After a day or two, check on your drying seeds and move them around the pate to ensure they’re not sticking in place. But here’s the thing — make sure you leave your plate of precious drying seeds someplace safe, and not on top of your freezer door where you may flip them over in a sleepy haze at 5:30am.

That’s right, I managed to launch all my delicate seeds right off the plate and into the abyss that is the space between the wall and the fridge. I was able to retrieve most of the seeds, which were now covered in dust. A little patience and some tweezers, however, go a long way. Once I separated most of the seeds and got them back on the plate, I moved them out of the way but within eyeshot, i.e. on top of my record collection. No accidents here!

Step Five: Pack the Seeds

Once your tomato seeds are dry, you’re ready to package them for safe keeping. I use small brown paper envelopes from AC Moore, and then for a final flourish, I wrap them with decorative washi tape. If you too use washi tape, be sure to wrap enough layers so that the packet is sealed completely.

It’s so satisfying to hold in your hands a packet of homegrown seeds, knowing all the love and care you put into the process. It’s optimism for the seasons(s) ahead, and it’s slowing down to thank the garden for all it’s provided in seasons past. It’s part science experiment, part ritual, and every bit a special time to appreciate the generations of growers who came before you. Happy seed saving, my dears.

Bombs for Butterflies: Make Milkweed Seed Bombs in Time for Fall Planting

Seed bombs have been a favorite craft of amateur gardeners (and their small children) for a long time now, and I’ve always loved the idea of guerrilla gardening. The romantic notion of tossing homemade wildflower “bombs” into unloved lots and along roadways…what’s not to love?

I finally decided to make my own milkweed seed bombs, but I needed to confront my own skepticism. You see, I don’t want to be skeptical about the true effectiveness of seed bombs, but a golf ball-sized ball of hard-as-rock clay just doesn’t seem like a great way to germinate seeds that’ll grow into beautiful wildflowers. And I’m not the only one!

But with some extra research beforehand and a few instinctual tweaks to the myriad recipes I found online, I’ve made about two dozen milkweed seed bombs that I’m optimistic will grow into lively plants for my local pollinators come next Spring.

What You’ll Need:

  • Rich compost
  • Clay (air dry, powdered, or natural from your area). If using natural clay from your area, make sure it’s free of any possible pests.
  • Swamp milkweed seeds*
  • Muslin or burlap sachet for storage or gift-giving

*When choosing seeds, be sure to do your research and find out what’s native to your region. If you plan to use your seed bombs outside the confines of your own garden, or if you’re making a gift, always go with native varieties! I’m in New York State, and so I know to go with swamp milkweed (Asclepias incarnata) seeds, which are native to the Northeast.

Step One: Mix the Clay into Your Compost

Not gonna lie, this first step was a pain. I chose to use an air-dry modeling clay instead of powdered clay, so breaking it into smaller bits to mix into the compost was really hard on my wrist. If I were to do this project again, I’d try to find some powdered clay, which you’d then mix in with your compost and a bit of water to form the seed bombs.

For my purposes this first time, I found that lots of folks recommend not following recipes that call for much more clay than soil. Though my seed bombs did end up being mostly clay, I was careful to only mix in small amounts of clay at a time, kneading the mixture like a bread dough to incorporate as much compost as possible. Once I had a crumbly consistency I was happy with, I moved on to forming the bombs.

Step Two: Form Small, Dime-Sized Bombs

Most seed bomb recipes will tell you to form your mixture into golf ball-sized bombs. While this may sound reasonable, bigger does not always equal better! In my research, I found some great advice to make your seed bombs smaller — about dime-sized — for more effective germination and a greater likelihood of success.

In forming my dime-sized bombs of clay and compost, I tried to incorporate as much soil as I could. Though they did end up being mostly clay due to the nature of the particular modeling clay I chose, I think the smaller size will help to break down the materials faster and more uniformly when the time comes for the seeds to germinate and sprout in the garden. We’ll see what happens, and I’ll keep you posted!

Step Three: Press the Milkweed Seeds into the Compost/Clay Bombs

I chose to first mix all of my compost and clay bombs before adding the milkweed seeds, which may (or may not) have been a wise choice. On the one hand, if your seeds need light to germinate, you don’t want them buried in the middle of your seed bomb. To me, if I’m making much smaller seed bombs with the goal of having them incorporate into the soil easier, then having more exposure to sunlight is a good thing. It was difficult, however, to fold them into the sides of the bombs that had already started to harden.

I eventually got the hang out of it by using my nail to cut a slice in the side and sticking a milkweed seed in there, making sure to close it up around the seed as much as I could. I also didn’t anticipate the seeds being so large and flat. Full of surprises, this project!

Each seed bomb ended up with between 1-3 milkweed seeds, which worked out perfectly for the number of seeds I had between two packets and the number of compost/clay bombs I had made earlier.

Step Four: Leave to Dry at Least 24 Hours

Whether you use dry clay mixed with water or a wet clay like I did, you’ll need to let your fresh seed bombs air dry for at least 24 hours. This should be enough time if you make smaller bombs, but if yours are larger, you’ll need closer to 36 hours for them to dry.

In the meantime, pour yourself a glass of rose in your favorite fancy glass and pick up a breezy summer reading book (I’m making my way through Joyland by Stephen King), or dive into Season 3 of Stranger Things. Relax! It’s hot AF outside right now.

Step Five: Put Together as a Gift or Store for Later

At long last, your final step is to store your milkweed seed bombs in a cool, dry place until you’re ready to throw them. Because I planned to gift about half of my seed bombs, I picked up a packet of two attractive burlap sachets at AC Moore when I bought my modeling clay. You could also use a muslin spice sachet, but do think about how much loose soil you’ll have, and if it’ll come through the fabric you’d like to use.

I put together a little planter gift basket for a fellow gardener as part of a surprise bachelorette brunch a friend organized this past weekend, and I know these milkweed seed bombs have found a good home! Because it’s already mid-summer, I chose a few different seed varieties that can be planted in late summer or early Fall to accompany the seed bomb sachet.

Milkweed seeds are perfect for this collection because they too should be planted into the Fall, to then bloom in the Spring. They need a cold, wet period to stratify and aid in germination, so mid to late summer is the perfect time to spend some time crafting milkweed seed bombs. All together, it makes for an inexpensive, yet elegant gift that I’m sure the gardener in your life would also love.

Final Thoughts

Though I was skeptical at first and some steps ended up being tougher on my hands and wrist than I anticipated, I’m glad I did my research beforehand, and that I followed through with this project I’ve wanted to try for a long time. You can make seed bombs with other wildflower varieties, and with some experimentation, I’m sure it can become a fun ritual to look forward to each year.

Just keep in mind your soil to clay ratios, the number of seeds in each bomb, the size of your seed bombs, and where you’re tossing them for your greatest chance of success. Bringing milkweed back to our butterfly populations is for sure a worthy endeavor, and why not have some fun with it? Bombs away, bitches!

Growing Joy and Solidarity in the Garden: 5 Reasons You’ll Adore the ‘Feminist Weed Farmer’

Feminist Weed Farmer: Growing Mindful Medicine in Your Own Backyard
by Madrone Stewart, Microcosm Publishing (2018)

“If you are unable to find joy in loving your plants, smoking their flowers, or sharing your bounty, you should probably stop growing. However, I do encourage you to at least give it a try.” – Madrone Stewart

Maybe you want to start growing your own cannabis and are unsure of where to start, or you’re drawn in by the brightly colored cover and promise of subversive gardening insights (*raises hand*). However you find it, Madrone Stewart’s Feminist Weed Farmer: Growing Mindful Medicine in Your Own Backyard (part of the DIY series by Microcosm Publishing) is a substantial and delightful book to have in your arsenal as a punk rock gardener. Here are five reasons why you should pick up a copy.

1. Stewart’s Voice and Point of View as a Grower

Stewart’s voice is like that of a friend sharing her unique approach to growing cannabis, because she wants you to be successful and have a good time doing it. That’s pretty much exactly how this book came to exist. She wrote a cultivation guide for friends who took over her own farm, Purple Kite Farm, and it evolved into the guidebook you see here.

She says, “I want this book to serve as both a guide for you and a cultural artifact for the community of people who taught me how to grow. This is what we did in those mountains.” Her connection to community is palpable, and I fucking love it. She also says, “I want weed, kale, tomatoes, sunflowers, and echinacea cultivated in every backyard, terrace, and rooftop. I would love for the corporate controlled cannabis farms to fail, and I would love to see women and gender-queer cultivators put them out of business.” Me too, girl.

Throughout this short book (it’s only 125 pages), Stewart weaves her “biased beliefs” about responsible gardening to minimize environmental impacts and the potential for cannabis cultivation to be a powerful feminist experience. She recalls fond memories of Humboldt County “trim scenes,” where mostly women worked together to trim the harvested flowers. But she also recalls how they all understood the risks involved in working on those mountains as a woman, and how sexual harassment and assault are common on cannabis farms. She says, “As you pull in your harvest, connect with the women who have done this work before you; these are your ancestors, and we want to support you.”

2. Calls Out the Dominant Cannabis Industry as Very White, and Very Male-Centric

It shouldn’t shock anyone, now that weed has become accepted and decriminalized to varying degrees, that straight white dudes benefit the most from the newfound boom in economic opportunity. Stewart calls out how deeply unfair this is, given our country’s history of criminalizing black and brown communities, and non-white mothers in particular, via the War on Drugs.

Some cities, likes San Francisco and Oakland, are actively working toward some version of racial equity in the industry. This is good! However, the cultural image of the white Weed Mom is also taking root, in contrast to those women who have been criminally and socially penalized for their cannabis use. This isn’t discussed in Feminist Weed Farmer, but I encourage you to do your own reading on the topic.

Bitch Media swag and Feminist Weed Farmer give me life on a Fridday morning.

3. Honest Recommendations and Advice

Stewart shares anecdotal advice and product recommendations throughout the book based on her own experiences of fucking up, and of trying to work smarter, not harder. These recommendations feel honest, and her candid, conversational tone about the mistakes she’s made, and what’s she’s adopted as best practices over time is refreshing. Stewart makes clear from the get-go that Feminist Weed Farmer is a guidebook for beginners, and that the simple instructions are intended to get you through your first couple seasons as a grower. She also includes visuals, such as hand-drawn diagrams of set-ups you may wish to use. These are helpful in picturing the more technical bits of instruction.

4. A Back-to-Basics Refresher on Caring for Your Plant Babes

The book is broken up into five parts. They are: The Plant Life Cycle, Creating a Good Growing Environment, Protecting Your Plants, Harvesting Your Medicine, and Hash Making. As you become a more skilled and experimental home gardener, you may need an occasional reminder of why you perform tasks a certain way. It’s sometimes easy to rush through your watering or care routine between working hours and other obligations. Stewart says, “It takes compassion to tend to each plant according to their unique needs in order for them to flourish.” This little book reminds us to slow down and really pay attention to what our plant babes are telling us.

5. Finding Joy in the Garden

I won’t give away all of Stewart’s twenty ideas to enhance your cannabis growing experience, which are listed on the very last page opposite her photo. But I will tell you that her recommendations include ways to incorporate more beauty and pleasure in your garden. Through a combination of focused task management, bursts of energetic release, and meditation on why you’ve undertaken this project, you’ll find growing your own cannabis to be an enriching new part of your life.

I appreciate that Stewart states in her conclusion, “This book was not written for your academic exploration of cannabis cultivation.” But I do think there is still great wisdom here for home gardeners growing veggies, herbs, and flowers with community and justice in mind.

I adore this little book, and I know I’ll keep it close for a long time. And like Stewart, I wish for you to find peace and un-self conscious joy in tending to your garden — one Spotify playlist or homegrown plant medicine gift at a time.

After finishing Feminist Weed Farmer, I picked up this little table at Target. My goal is to spend more time simply enjoying the company of my plants and beautifying the space.