How Does Your Garden Grow?

Growing up in New Hampshire, I always felt as though we had a small farm.  With more than an acre of trees and grass and garden, I could jump from rock to rock or swing from tree to tree all day without touching the same place twice.  I quoted Robert Frost daily as I stumbled across a stone wall long forgotten, listened to the rustling leaves of birch trees, and chased toads and snakes over the grass and into a hill thick with wildflowers.

While I fancied myself a young farmer, the reality was this.  My parents are incredibly hard working green-thumbed gardening enthusiasts, and I had enough of an appreciation of it to be nearby while all of their hard work was going on.  I walked barefoot along the edges of raised beds while my father watered in the early evening, was the first to announce (mouth crunching) the earliest of edible snap peas, and was a seeker of green hornworms lurking among tomato plants for my dad to remove (I, of course, would not touch those hungry horned villains).

Those childhood memories are the benchmark in which I have compared all gardens and yards since.  When I was seventeen, my parents moved to Ohio as I went off to college.  A scant stony acre became five flat ones, rich and dark with fertile soil.  To romanticize the grounds there was a bona fide barn, pond, and horse fences.  Yet it wasn’t the magical garden of my childhood.  It was surely easier to grow everything in the relatively flat landscape devoid of rocks and April snow and confined space.  I ate my first homegrown cantaloupe the second summer we were there, and toted a frog raised from a tadpole back to school in the fall.

Since then, the outdoor spaces to my homes have fallen short of my hopes.  Tiny over-shaded mossy lawns, one hot sunny field overrun with poison ivy and impossible to till without some serious equipment, an apartment here and there with no outdoor space, and one over-manicured yard that I did not have the heart to dismantle to become my fairy garden.

Until now.  Our new old house sits almost in the middle of a three thousand square foot lot.  It has taken me years to adjust to city living: tiny, efficient houses with even tinier yards.  No spacious houses with a room just for muddy boots and damp outerwear.   But I finally have an appreciation for it.  We have mastered living in 800 square feet of a house, and this Spring we are going to maximize the potential of our cozy backyard.  Not sure where our dirty yardwork clothes are going to hang, but we’ll find a spot.

Luckily, our outdoor space was already beautiful when we moved in, making it easy to envision our dream yard.  Our goal is to create a vegetable garden space without disrupting the mature growth of a plum tree, an apple tree, lilacs and hydrangea bushes, wisteria vines, and a hedge along the perimeter thick with irises, daffodils, crocuses, and hyacinth.  With decks in both the front and back, we'll have ample room for some growing containers and seating areas from which to admire them.

My friend and farmer Trish told me that the beauty of a small garden is the opportunity and need to be creative and make every bit of space count.  With her farmed two acres on a four acre plot of land, she doesn’t have to plant anything in wine boxes or pots, and can allow a row to sit fallow for half a season until she decides what to plant next or how to rotate her numerous crops.  While agonizing over how much of the grass to edge for our garden border, I envied her vast space.

Our true city dwelling friends of Brooklyn and Chicago have managed to grow peppers, herbs, scallions, and more in window boxes and on patios without complaint.  So I feel lucky to have this much room, even without a grove of birches or a strawberry field.

Jaimy and I have both grown vegetables before, from my gardens in Maine and Ohio to Jaimy's in British Columbia and North Carolina.  But how do things grow in the Pacific Northwest?  With some personal advice from friends and neighbors, along with a bit of reading, we quickly determined which vegetables to grow and how to best prepare the soil.  While I still can't believe that there may be more than one day a week with sun, our neighbor insists that it gets pretty hot come July and August.  So we proceed while looking doubtfully at the indefinitely rainy forecast.

This is what we've done so far:

We dug up our main growing area, added two pathways for ease of harvest and care

Jaimy dug up and edged this extra sunny spot with brick

Herbs planted in wine boxes, brought inside waiting for the hailstorm

After planting seeds and buying a couple of starts, day 4

Spinach: day 4

Broccoli and pole beans, day 12

Spinach: day 12

All veggies: day 12

The starts we have growing in the big front window include: fennel, snap peas, pole beans, green beans, mustard greens, spinach, arugula, little gem lettuce, French crisp lettuce, broccoli, cucumbers, and brussels sprouts.  I've been advised to direct seed the peas and beans, so we have some seeds nestled in the ground outside as well.  Our window seedlings of the peas and beans are the backup plan/experiment.  Once we know which will grow and produce better as the summer progresses, we'll have a better plan for next year.

Outside, we also have beets, radishes, and carrots planted.  It has been seven days and only today have I started to see little green radish leaves poking through the soggy earth.  It has rained the past five out of seven days, so I imagine the carrots and beets are still hiding from the rain or the seeds will rot into the soil.  We will have to wait and see!

The big day to move starts outside is planned for April 5th, weather depending.  The last frost will hopefully be over, and we will have the first part of the week to harden off the starts out in the elements.  Stay tuned for more (and not so lengthy) updates on the yard!