The Garden Blog

One of the best things about gardening is the sharing that goes on, be it the sharing of information or seeds or vegetables. This poem was shared with us during the workshop I took up at Esalen and the author was kind enough to allow me to share it here as well. I think it's particularly appropriate at this time of year as we spend more time tending our gardens.

Tending the Garden
(from Messages to Me: Words Collected on the Road to Silence)
by Meg Coyle Irsay

And so I tend to my garden, the plot of mind that has been given me to live in, the plot of mind that provides for my only need, to express the One Love.

The downside to having a community garden versus having one at home is the inability to see the daily changes. On the flip side, I suppose, are the dramatic changes you witness when you do get there. This past week I didn't make it over to the garden at all -- it was a busy week and, lucky for me (or maybe unlucky because stopping by the garden tends to be very soothing during stressful weeks), it rained in the middle of the week so I didn't need to water. When I did get there I was amazed to see the difference, mostly in the tomato plants, which had grown another foot and had a couple baby tomatoes making their way into the world. Side note: I also found the anti-social gardener (the one with the chain-link fence surrounding his plot) who grows the amazing tomatoes taking out his annual cover crop of fava beans, which means he's about to plant said amazing tomato seedlings. 

The plants I have been able to watch everyday are the melon seedlings growing in my kitchen window. The Marina di Chioggia, especially, had grown to a good four times the size of its little starter pot and was ready to be planted. While not quite as dramatic, the Cantalupo di Charentais was also ready to be transplanted. And so, yesterday, they made their way to the garden exactly one month after I planted the seeds. The top photo is the Marina, right is the Cantalupo (the little sprig to the right of the lettuce). The Hokkaido watermelon seed is the slowest starter of the three so I'm going to give it a little more time in the window. After returning from my week of organic gardening edification at Esalen I may even start another one (heck, there may be a lot of other seeds to start!) as this one seems a little gimpy. We'll see.

About once a month, I catch up with my friend Marc McDowell. As you may recall from previous posts on GardenstoTables, Marc is the executive sous chef out at the Ritz-Carlton, Kapalua, who put in an extensive kitchen garden last year.

In January, in addition to becoming a father for the second time, Marc was accepted into the 2010 University of Hawaii Maui Master Gardener Training Program. So in our most recent conversation we talked about all he was learning in the program - which is quite a bit. He spends eight hours a week learning about soil and seeds and landscaping and (well, you get the picture). Essentially he's learning the science of gardening and has compiled a "gigantic" binder full of information and notes - but that all that information can be a little daunting if you're not immediately putting it into practice.

And that's where Frank Jamali comes in. On one of Marc's weekly garden tours, Frank introduced himself and asked if he would like any advice. It ends up that Frank is a retired electronic engineer with experience in biodynamic gardening and landscaping who is now living in Kapalua and was not just offering words but has been coming out to work with Marc in the garden (they're pictured above, with Marc on the left and Frank on the right).

I've said it before and I'll say it again: There is something really really cool about putting a seed -- especially if it's a seed you have saved and stored yourself -- in some dirt (with, okay, some compost and vermiculite and a spritz of kelp emulsion) and then watching as the little green heads start sprouting out. On March 23, I planted the first three melon seeds of the season: a Hokkaido watermelon, a Cantulopo di Charentais and Marina di Chioggia. Exactly one week later, they were already peeking their way out of the dirt (pictured, right). Making it even cooler, the Hokkaido and the Marina di Chioggia were both from seeds I harvested, rinsed and dried from last year's fruit. As you can see, at this point, they were all making their way about equally.

Now, a week later,  it's a different story. The Marina di Chioggia (on the right) is making some serious moves, with the Cantulopo in second and the Hokkaido struggling a bit. (Jeff commented that they looked a little like the three bears: papa, mama and baby). I have a feeling the Hokkaido seed is not going to make it so will most likely get another going in the next week or so and move the two that are making it to the community garden. More on melon-mania (not to be confused with tomatopalooza, which refers to the crazy tomato plants I've got going in my garden that volunteered from last year's crop and we'll discuss in another post) to come. Gotta love this time of year. 

It shouldn't be a big deal when spring comes to Southern California. We don't get snow or ice or frozen tundra or any of the other things that keep gardeners from tending their gardens in the winter. But it just feels different and it's like the garden tells you things are different. I was away from my garden for a week -- great trips to the La Quinta Resort, with its spectacular flowers and new Morgan's in the desert restaurant focusing on local seasonal produce, and to the Alisal Guest Ranch & Resort in Solvang, with its equally stunning landscaping and access to local organic vineyards and farms -- and came back to the amazing sight of my rose bush awash in blooms. This not only happened exactly on the first day of spring but after just cutting it totally back a few weeks ago. Add to that the tomato plants that volunteered from last year's crop that are already outgrowing their cages (on the left side of the photo above) and the poppies starting to bloom (note the little orange flowers behind the roses) and it's just plain gorgeous.

Well, to be honest, it's gorgeous verging on messy in some places so I will be setting aside some time in the next week or so do to some serious cleaning out to make room for new crops -- but let's just focus on the gorgeous parts now, shall we?

Speaking of tomatoes: I would be remiss if I didn't let you know that Tomatomania is hitting the state of California. It's an amazing series of events, offering seedlings for all sorts of tomatoes to choose from. The heirlooms I bought from them last year are the same ones volunteering again this year. So, yes, it's true, one purchase and two years of heirloom tomatoes (yea!). Here's their website so you can see the dates they'll be in your neighborhood: http://tomatomania.com/  Have fun - and Helllooooo Spring!