Is Seed Saving Silly?

The answer to that question is "It all depends." If the seeds have sentimental value or heritage significance, such as my grandmother's larkspur, by all means save them. That said, it depends on how much money one is willing to spend on packets of seeds, attentiveness to detail and whether seed saving is fun or boring.

Just this morning I finished a harvest of 1/2 ounce of turnip seeds. A packet of 250 turnip seeds costs $3.89 ordered on line from GardenSeed.com. My harvest would make several packets at that rate. Less expensive seeds are available, particularly if purchased from a bulk vendor such as Roger, who owns Lawrence Feed and Farm Supply in Lawrence. Roger's turnip seed costs $1.95 for half an ounce, so that's what I've saved today.

For me, economy is not a sufficient reason to save seeds. For others, it may be. Only your pocketbook knows.

As for attentiveness to detail, that's my curse in life. I've always focused on detail and patterns. I notice the little things, often missing the big picture. Again, taking the turnip as example, last spring I noticed that a few turnip plants from the fall garden had survived the winter and started growing. I decided to leave a couple and see what happened. By April 6, the plants had started to bloom.

By April 27 the earliest tiny flowers had produced long seed pods while the plants continued to grow and put out new blooms.

As the seed pods matured they turned pale tan and dried. I noticed that the most mature ones had burst, dropping their contents to the ground. That told me I must harvest the pods when they were dry but before they popped open.

Yesterday I saw that both plants were totally dried up so I cut most of the branches and put them in a paper bag. After pounding on the bag for about 30 seconds, I lifted out the dried stems and burst pods, leaving seeds and small debris in the bag.

I put the stems and pods in our compost bucket.

Then I spent a couple of minutes picking small debris out of the seeds, which I had poured into a custard cup. They are rather pretty, I think.

Hours of labor involved: 15 minutes at most. Time spent observing the plants' progress: 15 minutes over time. In the process I've learned a lot about turnips' growth cycle and behavior. It has been interesting.

So that brings me to the final "depends" element – fun. That's why I do it, for fun. It's fun to be outdoors, to observe the cycles of life and harmonize with them, and to stash seeds away for the fall garden. It may be silly, but no more so than watching television.

No Rain!

It's spring. Why haven't I been writing about gardening?

Because I can't bear to think about it. We have had no significant rain since mid-March – more than five weeks. Weather fluctuates between days of abnormal heat and nights when a light frost burns the young potato plants.

The garden isn't thriving, but so far the broccoli, peas, onions, kale and other spring vegetables are hanging on to life and growing slowly. We water but it's no substitute for rain. We sowed grass seed this spring to fill patches devastated by last summer's heat and drought. I'm determined to keep the grass seedlings alive, so they get most of my attention.

The most interesting things in the garden and cold frames are plants that are making seeds. Two turnip plants that survived the winter have countless seed pods and are still blooming. Plants, like humans, produce an abundance of seeds to insure progeny. These two plants will make enough seeds to supply hundreds of gardens.

Similarly, in the cold frames, spinach has put up seed stalks and will soon burst into bloom.

Lettuce is a bit slower and just beginning to put up seed stalks. This one is Buttercrunch, a bibb lettuce. Observe the cracked soil. I haven't watered the cold frames this week. Eventually this plant will be two and a half feet tall and resemble a weed.

When these plants and their seeds have dried completely, probably in July, I will harvest the seeds for planting in August. Some I will keep in the basement for planting next spring.

Yesterday the temperature rose to 91º. Annie dug a hole under the oak leaf hydranga so she could lie in cool earth. In the process she dug up a Japanese fern, but I can't blame her for wanting to chill out on an unseasonably hot day.

Not all is bleak. The hosta bed in front of our house is thriving, along with variegated Solomon's seal. Here's a small sample.

This morning Dennis and I went to Wohletz Farm to pick strawberries. The Wohletz family has a big operation, growing strawberries and vegetables for the Lawrence Farmers' Market. They also allow people to pick their own strawberries. The huge strawberry patch is irrigated from a nearby pond. These are the largest, sweetest, juiciest strawberries I have ever seen or tasted! We picked 23 pounds in 30 minutes.

The kitchen god is pleased.

Tomorrow I'll make strawberry jam and maybe, just maybe, there'll be a thunderstorm tonight.

Overdoing It

Search the Web for instructions for saving tomato seeds and you will find some really yucky photos of a mixture of tomato seeds and water covered with mold. The instructions declare that tomato seeds will not germinate unless they have been fermented to remove the jelly-like substance that encases them, using a process involves several days, numerous steps, and bad odor.

It isn't true. For many years I've saved tomato seeds by scooping seeds out onto a piece of paper towel and allowing them to dry. Here are some I started drying yesterday afternoon...

When they are completely dry they are stuck to the paper. Then I write the name of the tomato variety and the year on the paper, wrap it in waxed paper or put it in a plastic bag, and store it in the basement. The seeds I started yesterday were completely dry this morning...

When I'm ready to start new tomato plants I pick the seeds off the paper and put them in little pots of seed starting medium. Give them some water and a few days later they pop up. That's it. No fermentation, no rinsing, none of the steps that Web experts consider necessary.