Remember when…Praying Mantises took over our Christmas Tree

Posted on June 1, 2022 by Sprout and Share

I was recently pulling some weeds out of our Raspberry bed when I noticed this little fellow.

My first thought was…I wonder where the rest of his brothers and sisters are?

Now, you might think that’s an odd first though upon seeing a praying mantis. Maybe a sixth or a ninth thought, but certainly not a first one. That might be because you don’t know how many baby praying mantises are in an egg sac. But, I do know that. And, I can tell you exactly why I know that tidbit of information.

Historically, we get one Christmas tree. That’s probably not a shocking revelation. It’s always seemed both sufficient and reasonable for our house. We’ve also stumbled into a tradition over the last several years of cutting down our own Christmas tree at a local farm (I know, tree murder!) followed by a trip to an equally local brewery. If you know how easy it is to cut down a 7-foot tree, you’ll recognize this tradition for what it is – a reason to drink beer.

Regardless, December 2018 was no different. We set out into the Christmas tree field, saw in hand, surrounded by the standard soundtrack (“is it Douglas or Frasier firs that we like?” “what in the world is a scotch pine?” “Sammy, don’t swing the saw like a baseball bat”). It turns out, though, December 2018 was a little different.

All the 6ft-7ft trees were really crappy – think Charlie Brown Christmas tree. There were, however, a few smaller (5 foot ish) trees that looked pretty nice. That left us in somewhat of a conundrum. A 5-foot tree by itself didn’t seem to do the grandeur of Christmas justice. But, some quick math told us that if we got two of them, we’d have 10 feet of glorious Christmas tree.

Decision made. We cut, hauled, and loaded two lovely Christmas trees into our car, and we set off to finish the trip with some beers. I don’t, however, recall the beer being particularly memorable.

Fast forward to December 23^rd. I know it was that date, because I was watching Sunday night football, and I can read a calendar. It was getting late. Katie had gone to bed and the game was wrapping up. I stood up to let our dog out, turn off the lights (Christmas and standard) and head upstairs to bed. As I was doing that, I noticed a small shadow on the wall by the tree.

That was strange, I thought, so I moved in for a closer look. I turned on my phone flashlight, as was the custom at the time, and sure enough, it was a little baby praying mantis. I’d never seen a baby praying mantis, but there was no denying it – the babies look exactly like the adults.

Just seconds after my brain processed that information, it also processed the fact that there were a lot more than just one on the wall.

Bugs don’t bother me much, but my usual problem-solving method of ‘just leave it until it isn’t a problem anymore’ didn’t seem like it would work in this situation. So, I grabbed a piece of paper and a plastic cup, and I started scooping baby praying mantises (manti?) into the cup – 5 or 6 at a time – and tossing them out the back door.

Editors note – I actually left some in our house plants (never told Katie). I like to think that somewhere amongst the brick, wood and drywall of our house, there’s a thriving, secret community of praying mantises (Ratatouille-style).

Now, even at the time, I recognized the ruthlessness of just tossing babies into the freezing cold with very little chance of survival. However, I didn’t have much chance to mull that one over, because right then, Katie came downstairs. Hooray, help had arrived.

Wrong. I was on the business end of a withering glare and stern chastising. “Where have you been?” “Your son is upstairs throwing up, and you’re down here watching football and drinking beer?” “Could you be any worse?” “Here are some vomit-covered sheets – do something with them.”

I can’t be sure, but at that point, I think Katie started wondering why I was standing by the open back door holding a plastic cup and a piece of paper. I explained the situation, but I don’t think it totally sunk in – she was still neck deep in a code green (sick kid in the middle of the night).

So, praying mantises weren’t the only plague to befall our house that night. Bummer. I’ll be honest, that left me in a bit of a sour mood. It also led me to Google how many praying mantises are in an egg sac (you know, to set expectations). At that point, I estimated I’d thrown 40-50 of those helpless little creatures out to their death in the bitter cold.

It turns out, praying mantis egg sacs can have up to 200 babies in each one. Now, you know that fact as well.

Time for the nuclear option. I took the breakable ornaments off the tree and with one angry windup and throw, I got the tree stuck halfway out the door. Not ideal. I’m sure that created a praying-mantis cluster-bomb type effect all around me.

Trees weren’t really designed to go out doors top first. But, a few more angry kicks and elbows jettisoned the tree from the house along with a good amount of the paint from the door frame. I then tossed the tree two or three more times just to show it who was boss.

By 1:30 am, the situation – at least the praying mantis situation – was under control.

So, to summarize, we had a sick kid who would ultimately give Katie the stomach bug causing them both to miss my family’s Christmas celebration, a living room that held somewhere between zero and a lot of praying mantises, a half-decorated Christmas tree (still in the water stand) laying on the back patio and two spouses unimpressed with their other halves’ efforts in their time of need.

I’m not an English major. I don’t know if every story needs a moral. This one, however, seems exceedingly clear. If you’re going to cut your own Christmas tree, don’t get two. All you’re doing is doubling your chances of acquiring a soon-to-hatch praying mantis egg sac.

Fighting Off the Aphid Onslaught

Posted on May 19, 2022 by Sprout and Share

It was not a good sight. The second I laid eyes on it, I knew I was in for a battle. Small, green, hanging on the underside of a pea plant leaf – yup, it was an aphid. List of things you never have just one of:

1. Pringles
2. Aphids

That’s it. Don’t come at with me Cheetos or Doritos – I’ve had just one of those in a sitting, and I’m no snack food superman. I would include roaches on that list, but they’re pretty gross. I didn’t want to muck up the list – or the joke – with their presence.

Anyway, that first aphid always elicits a visceral, “get off my plant” smashing reaction. Once it was sufficiently smashed, I started doing the same to the pockets of other aphid families – not my finest hour.

Obviously, crushing all the aphids was never a plausible solution. That’s a little like throwing water on a mogwai. Somehow, they just seem to start multiplying out of spite.

So, I started mulling my other options. I actually own some neem oil which apparently can be used to eliminate aphids. However, whenever I research applications, the answer to “is neem oil harmful to humans” is never a resounding “no.” It’s always bucketed as “low toxicity.” Even low toxicity is a little too much toxicity for this gardener. So, I decided to keep the neem oil in the garage.

Soap and water is also supposed to repel aphids. So, as I’m thinking through the best way to sponge bathe my spring peas, I realize that I’ve never really seen any food stuffs flavored as ‘soap and water.” I mean you get salt and vinegar, sour cream and onion, etc. But, really nothing in that soap and water genre. Pulling fresh veggies straight from the garden and eating them is one of the big perks of all this gardening effort, so I wasn’t really looking to combine that with “curse word punishment.” I decided to pass on the soap and water.

After smashing a few more aphids, I left without a solution.

Some people might stew on that for days – tortured by the knowledge that little critters are sucking nutrients from their plants. I didn’t do that. In fact, I pretty much forgot about it right away. I mean, it wasn’t an outlandish amount of aphids (trust me, I’ve seen an outlandish amount of aphids), and I had some other stuff to do.

After doing that other stuff, I found myself at the checkout counter of the local nursery. Lo and behold, sitting right there in front of me was a small plastic tub full of ladybugs. Now, having clashed with aphids before, I knew that ladybugs are their natural predators.

It was as if the heavens opened up and dropped a mongrel hoard in the lap of Ghengis Khan. It was a tacit sanctioning of biological warfare. Of course, I bought the ladybugs (retail $10 for about 300 bugs; how can you put a price on life, indeed).

Now in possession of this band of marauders, I had a bit of a problem. I still had to run to the beer store and the liquor store. Can you leave ladybugs in a sealed, hot car? Are they like babies and dogs where that’s generally frowned upon? I guess I could have looked up the average cubic inches of oxygen required to support around 300 ladybugs, but I didn’t have time for that. Nor did I know the volume of air in my car. I settled on cracking the windows. It made me feel like a responsible ladybug owner.

It also worked. We all got home safely – neither scorched nor suffocated. But, oddly enough, I didn’t really know what to do next.

For any non-entomologists out there, ladybugs can fly. It seems weird to think they’d just go (or stay) where I tell them to. They are still mercenaries, and I had no idea how much trust the cracked car window built up.

So, I found myself watching a video of an old man releasing ladybugs into his garden. Turns out you just have to put them in the refrigerator which puts them to sleep (easy enough), water the garden (in case they’re parched) and wait until night (they don’t fly at night). All of that seemed just fine.

Then, you release them about a third at a time over the course of three days.

I think that’s just absurd. This was shaping up to be the battle of the month in the family garden. There’s no way I was going to send my squad in short-handed and under-resourced. The kids and I dumped the whole bucket of ladybugs at the base of the pea plants. We were also going out of town and I’m a bit lazy – you pick which was the most likely driving force there.

If I’m being honest, I didn’t have high hopes for the ragtag army’s success. I thought I’d come outside in the morning to no ladybugs. But I was wrong.

Not only were they still here, but they had spread out into attack formation. They’d created a perimeter with a fortified base while sending out scouts to climb ahead and render destruction on any and all aphids in their way.

This precision and execution led me to name them Bug Team 6. It was truly a sight to behold.

I’m not going to lie, I could have watched them for a while. It was like all my old GI Joe combat setups had come to life. Hudson and I even joined in the battle – smashing aphids and feeding the bloodthirsty predators. Truly a team effort.

I’m not sure how many aphids were taken out – I’ve read a ladybug will eat 50 a day – but after a while, Bug Team 6 started to lose focus. They were just walking right past aphids and starting to cluster in a way that certainly seemed intended to refortify their ranks rather than take down the enemy.

But, I didn’t mind. After a few days, there were still a few members wandering through the pea plants. There were even some egg clusters on the support netting – likely a result of the earlier barracks shenanigans. And, the aphid population was decidedly smaller than when Bug Team 6 first came onto the scene.

That seems like a job well done to me – with no soap flavor or toxicity.

Garden Draft Prospect: Lettuce

Posted on May 10, 2022 by Sprout and Share

Continuing our in-depth coverage of the garden draft hopefuls, we’re going to take a look at Lettuce. Our garden experts have reviewed the scant film they could find to really get underneath what makes Lettuce tick and whether that will translate to the next level.

You’re ready. We’re ready. Let’s buckle up and get going.

Check out past draft prospect coverage here: Radish

Size: How can you put a number on Lettuce’s size? No, really, how would you even measure lettuce? Height of a leaf? Weight? Volume? It’s like 112% water with a little lettuce flavor sprinkled in. So, right off the bat our experts were a little confused. But, that’s not surprising. Lettuce is a bit of a boom or bust candidate. This is really going to be driven by how much you like lettuce. On one hand, it’s delicious and refreshing. On the other, it’s Lettuce. So, we’re calling it size = regular.

Reliability/durability: High marks here for Lettuce. I know, soft leafy vegetable doesn’t really scream ‘durability,’ but Lettuce hangs tough. Consistent germination – mainly because the seeds are so small you can’t help but plant 47 of them in one place. Obviously one of those will germinate. Lots of heart to stand up to constant harvesting of their outer leaves while the inner core perseveres. Quick note – we here at Sprout and Share focus heavily on the loose leaf lettuces (letti?). I just don’t think we have the gumption to funnel all of our love, affection and effort into head lettuce that might end up with one last minute squirrel bite rendering it inedible. So, kudos are due anytime a vegetable shows more heart than the gardener.

Versatility: Nothing crazy happening here. This is Lettuce after all. Pretty buttoned-up, health-conscious entrant. You can get some interesting colors (well, mainly red or green) and some ramped up flavors (arugula, chicories, etc), but if Lettuce is going to be the star, it’s going to be salad. And Salad isn’t paying the bills. Lettuce needs to stay in their lane as a role player. As a result, Lettuce’s ceiling is a bit lower than you’d hope for a high-round pick. Garden grown Lettuce does make a great foundation to feature other veggies like beets, radishes, carrots, etc. So, good team player?

Other ilities: One of Lettuce’s biggest strengths is sustainability. Not in the “beneficial concept that helps the world way,” but in a “you can harvest it all the time” way. It just keeps churning out those leaves, and that’s what brings all the kids to the yard. And they’re like, “it’s better than store bought.” Darn right it’s better than store bought. I can teach you, but I’ll have to charge. Well, that’s not true – this blog is free to the first 100 readers – but we’ve significantly derailed from the sustainability talk, so let’s just move on.

Production: Starts the garden off with a bang in early spring when everyone is excited to see the tangible benefits of a long off-season. Not a whole lot is required from the gardener to generate consistent results – be it kids pulling leaves straight to eat, salad fodder or perhaps a nice accoutrement for those burgers coming off the grill (nothing better than garden bed-to-plate eating). Tallies a lot of marks in the ‘Pro’ column. From this assessor’s eye, the one main negative is the penchant to draw aphids from eight counties away. Lettuce seems to be some sort of aphid magnet. I’m not scientist, but I think it’s the same property that draws your child’s elbow to the full water glass on the table. Regardless, scraping aphids off individual Lettuce leaves isn’t ideal unless you’re some sort of sociopath seeking mass carnage.

Grade: B

If you truly love salad, I’d bump this a half grade. Lettuce is solid if not flashy. A good start to build on without much risk of failure. Don’t expect friends and neighbors to be fawning over your Lettuce patch, but as they say in the tech world, nobody ever got fired buying IBM. It’s a good confidence builder to add to your stable of veggies. You could do worse than a nice light garden salad with a little mustard vinagrette on a hot summer evening. Not everything you do has to be spectacular – sometimes you can just bask in the glow of slightly-above-averageness.

Garden Draft Analysis: Radish

Posted on April 28, 2022 by Sprout and Share

It’s draft day! There’s excitement in the air. Hope, desire and future success lay in the balance. But, how will we know who’s best and who’s likely to be left wilting in the green room? It’s time to grade garden produce. This is America after all, we need rankings!

Just like the NFL and NBA drafts, nerds everywhere need to make themselves feel better by poking and prodding at potential draftees to speculate on their worth in this world. I assume MLB and NHL do this as well, but let’s be real, nobody is nerdy enough to care about those.

First under the microscope is the unassuming Radish. Let’s see how they stack up.

Size: Radish is small but scrappy. You’re not picking up a run stuffer here, but Radish’s small stature gives it a quickness unseen in other veggies – 30 days to harvest! If impressive size is your thing, Radish might not ring your bell. But, they have a tendency to flip that perceived negative into a positive across the garden.

Reliability/durability: As consistent as the day is long. High motor gets Radish moving early in the year. We’re talking leaves and underground growth before Bean and Cucumber are even thinking about germination. Sprout like clockwork and persevere through temperature ups and downs. Coaches best friend – low maintenance, orderly rows and spacing, very little after-hours tomfoolery.

Versatility: Perhaps the one real knock on Radish in this year’s draft. What you see is what you get. Now, what you’re seeing is a strong offering – lovely color, a bit of flair with the peppery flavor, a few varietal curveballs (watermelon, daikon) – but, the output is sound fundamentals with a low ceiling (salads). When Radish steps out of their lane, you can see it. Pickled Radishes, while tasty, smell like farts. And roasted Radishes, while interesting, taste gross.

Other ilities: Radish is just a small ball of usability. Can squeeze through the smallest gap making them a great partner in a tandem plant. Easy, natural talent and a born leader in the clubhouse. Always ready to jump off the bench and produce. Perfect plant for young/inexperienced gardeners to lean on for immediate results.

Production: Never in question. Radish travels in packs and churns out deliciousness at any level you desire. Get on the board early with an easy spring score to impress friends and family with your green thumb. Or, throw some in for a last-minute, late-season harvest. Radish rarely seeks the spotlight, but they deliver in bunches.

Grade: B+

Radish is a sneaky, relentless high performer. Tenacious from start to finish with a spicy attitude but the self-control to stay in their row. A dream to manage with little entourage (pests) or night life (disease) issues, Radish will almost certainly come off the board early due to their high floor. Set aside the lower ceiling to see Radish for what it is – a winner in the garden.

How do you make a garden trellis?

Posted on April 24, 2022 by Sprout and Share

Anything is a trellis if you’re brave enough. – Abraham Lincoln

People that know me IRL (that’s ‘in real life,’ noob), or have gotten to know me through my illustrious blogging career, understand that I draw a lot of my life passion from inspirational quotes.

Now, I have never personally spoken with Mr. Lincoln, but I have every reason to believe he’d be a go-to source for trellises. Straight-shooter, known for his height, likes cucumbers (allegedly), nicknamed ‘Polebean’ (never alleged) – it just makes sense.

And, much like Lincoln’s words gave shape and guidance to what we hope our country becomes, trellises allow fruits and vegetables to rise above the muck and reach the pinnacle of their true potential.

So, what makes for a good trellis? The boys and I did some hard-hitting analysis, and we determined that the best trellises have one thing in common: plants can climb them. Guess what? Plants can climb lots of stuff.

You don’t need to go out and buy some big, fancy contraption to act as a plant elevator (sorry Big Trellis). There are any number of items in and around your garden that can be repurposed. Some things we’ve used in the past:

Sticks. Yes, I mean sticks – like former branches that were jettisoned from their mother tree for transgressions only they know. Run some netting between two sticks stuck upright in the garden bed – boom, that’s a trellis. Fancy yourself more of a craftsperson? Lean together several sticks for an A-frame structure, then secure that with twine or duct tape. You may have to accept the Blair Witch aesthetic, but your plants will be happy.

Existing structures by your garden. Sometimes the best made trellis is the one that’s standing right in front of you. Is there a fence, deck or pergola near your garden? If so, just run some garden twine or secure some wood/sticks to it to let the plants spread their wings. We’re talking about trellises – no need to overthink it.

Scraps from other projects. I often use leftover wood or random items like former closet clothes rack poles and broken shovel handles to create a trellis. MacGyver’s not the only one that can MacGyver stuff. Also, you’re cleaning junk out of your garage or storage – that’s a win/win.

Other garden items. We’re not talking about the Taj Mahal here, but something as simple as a tomato cage turned on its side will keep plants off the ground which allows airflow and prevents rot/mildew. Keep in mind, you don’t want to plant the same veggies in the same spot year after year, so having a more permanent trellis might not be worth it.

That’s not an exhaustive list. I’ve used a whole bunch of other random items in my gardening exploits. But, ultimately, a trellis is in the eye of the beholder.

So, when you look out into that cold, grey world we live in, take solace in the fact that the debris, the clutter, the cast-asides could, with the right amount of love, become a trellis in your garden. A truly noble cause.

Gardening is Exactly Like Curling

Posted on April 21, 2022 by Sprout and Share

Okay, maybe not exactly. Ice isn’t a great foundation for a thriving garden, and I would struggle to recommend where to use compost in curling. In fact, I’d venture to guess there are more differences than similarities. Do they even garden in Canada? I have no idea.

But, I did hear something funny while late-night-watching a recent Olympic curling match (curling is frowned upon during joint TV hours in our house). Each team is allotted a certain amount of “thinking time” to strategize during the game. It’s legit called “thinking time.” If you run out of time before the end of the competition, you’re no longer allowed to think. I’m dead serious.

I thought that was hilarious. I may have even LOLed. I think all curlers should be handed pipes and be required to continuously stroke their chins while contemplatively uttering “hmmmm” during thinking time.

As is my nature, I cycled through several other humorous and childish mental images before settling on the fact that I actually really like the “thinking time” concept – except, in our case, for gardening.

Just like curling, actions you take now can and will influence what you can do later in the game. Do you play a blocker or put the stone in the house? How will that second shot impact what you can do on your eight shot? Can you tell I’m talking myself back into this analogy?

There’s simply no end to the things you can think about – so much thinking! Trust me, it can be debilitating. So, as an avid thinker about gardens – possibly to the detriment of my other thinking responsibilities – I’ve put together a bit of a thinking guide. Consider this a digital Sherpa for your garden “thinking time.” You should start right meow.

Sun. Beautiful sun. Wherefore art thou Sun? Just like Romeo and Juliet, plants – at least the kind you’re interested in growing – can’t live without light. Make sure you use part of your thinking time to consider that the sun will change angles in the sky. Channel your inner Galileo and prepare for that eventuality.

Many common garden plants (cucumbers, tomatoes, pole beans, spring peas, etc) benefit and/or outright need support. This is much easier to execute before those plants get bigger. So, put up your cages and trellises early in the process.

Locate high-frequency herbs close to your kitchen. Outside of that dude that’s running his lawnmower at 7am, we’re all a little lazy. You’re much more likely to user your parsley, basil, dill and oregano if you have only a few steps to paydirt.

Consider who likes whom in the garden. A bit like the middle school playground, some plants get along better than others. Unlike middle school, that doesn’t change every day. So, you should be able to keep the nightshades (tomatoes, eggplants) separated from…oh, who am I kidding? I don’t really do this, but I have thought about it. So, I’ll debit some time off the clock.

I would suggest crop rotation which I always think is a funny term. It sounds like we’re out in Iowa planting acres of corn. Despite not being farmers, it does make sense to avoid planting the same thing in the same place year after year. Bugs and disease can remain in the soil which increases your chances of failure. No sense in making it easier for Mother Nature to flunk you for your efforts.

Last one – if you have children or animals – think about their impact on your garden. Maybe avoid planting too close to the basketball hoop. Or, plan to put up fence/netting to keep Fido from digging up your radishes.

That’s it. Time’s up. Take your thinking caps off. There are plenty of other things to consider before (and during) your gardening exploits. But for now, our thinking time has run out. It’s time to curl that stone. Hopefully, you end up holding the hammer in the 10^thend (yay curling lingo!).

Starting seeds indoors: Is it worth it?

Posted on April 19, 2022 by Sprout and Share

Spoiler alert: No. Definitely no.

You have to be willing to carve out space, time and effort for two months out of the year to make this endeavor work. That might not seem like a huge amount (two is a pretty small number), but that’s a full 1/6 of the year. Think about the other things in your life you’d be willing to do for 1/6 of your time – now tell me if caring for plants fits the theme.

So, what’s the big problem? Start with the equipment – grow lights, fans, containers – which will probably put you on a drug dealing watchlist and possibly strain any domestic relationships you currently have. Add in dirt and water IN your house when you’re used to fighting to keep them OUT of your house. Then, remember you can’t take breaks (another spoiler: plants will die), so you must be present and diligent or have someone that can help you be those things (thanks Mom!).

Oh, and hardening off plants is THE WORST. Like, this is clearly a dastardly step from Mother Nature just to emphasize you’re being a dufus. “I’ve given you soil, sunlight and rain in the beautiful outdoors, but yeah, sure, you should totally try to bring all that into your little building there.”

Yes, there are certainly some positives. You generally have a broader selection with seeds vs store bought plants. You can tell people you’re starting your garden from seeds (H/T to the hipsters). Or, perhaps you are like Vince Vaughn and just want to be around beautiful babies.

But let’s be honest – the logistics don’t matter here. Clearly, someone else can do this much better and with fewer headaches for about $1 per plant. This is purely an existential question.

Are you an indoor seed person? That’s it. That’s the decision point. No cost/benefit analysis needed. You’re either an indoor seed person or you aren’t.

Look inside your heart, and ask yourself: Self, are you ready to spend hundreds of dollars on equipment, dirt, electricity and water along with countless hours nurturing tender, vulnerable seedlings just to navigate a pitfall-laden path to filling an outdoor garden?

If you’re the type of person that hears that, shrugs and says “yeah, that sounds interesting,” then start planning your indoor grow area.

Some people walk through life making logical decisions, properly prioritize their time commitments and try to limit stressors in their immediate surroundings. Other people start their garden seeds indoors.

Which one are you?

Horseradish Harvest Day – Spring is Here!

Posted on April 16, 2022 by Sprout and Share

Horseradish. Neither a horse nor a radish. Singular and plural. It’s an unusual beast.

Regardless of those peculiarities, one thing is strikingly clear in our little garden oasis. Horseradish harvest marks the start of spring.

There are other milestones people might cite as the start of spring. The actual astronomical spring equinox seems like a good place to start, but that typically passes with little fanfare and potential snow flurries. Easter? Passover? I’m sure some people find the gateway to spring littered with egg shells, peeps and matzoh, but that’s a no from me, dawg.

The start of baseball season is a pretty strong offering. But, kids play baseball all the time now. How else can you raise the next Bryce Harper? Fall ball, yearlong travel ball, summer all-stars. The start and stop of baseball season has been appropriated by an amorphous blob of bats, gloves and overzealous parents living vicariously through 10 year-olds.

That leaves horseradish – sweet, sweet horseradish – as the one true indicator of spring.

It really brings everything to the table. It’s a root, so everyone will have fun digging in the dirt. Similarly, you have no idea what you’ll dig up, so the suspense is exhilarating. It’s crazy looking – Medusa meets a parsnip. And, you never know where the runners will take you (treasure hunt!).

In my experience, it’s not too common in home gardens, so you’ll impress people with your worldly cultivation (chest tap and point to the hipsters). But, it’s surprisingly easy to make prepared horseradish (food processor + vinegar, watch the fumes), so you can claim all the glory in your culinary exploits. Also, it makes for a great way to share your bounty with friends and family, because it’s delicious. Everyone will want some.

Think of all the ways you can use horseradish – cocktail sauce, sauce for roast beef, add it to Bloody Marys, bump the potency on dips and marinades. The possibilities are endless. Just make sure you account for the 20% that will still be left in the jar a year later; forgotten in the purgatory that is the back of the fridge. That will happen.

Perhaps best of all, it’s very easy to grow. Now is a good time to start. It will take a year before you harvest (unfortunately, you’ll have to remain in the dark about the start of spring this year). Just get a piece of horseradish from the local nursery or from a really cool friend who likes to grow cool stuff, and plant it 4-6 inches deep at a 45 degree angle with the crown (where leaves grow) at the top. Boom, done.

It’s helpful to water occasionally, but other than that, you’ve just set Mother Nature’s alarm clock for next spring.

Word of caution: the horseradish root sends out a lot of runners. You’ll see it pop up in all kinds of fun places that weren’t where you originally planted it. So, if that’s a concern, it’s good to plant it in a pot or a confined area of your garden.

That’s it. We’ve harvested this year’s crop. We’ve re-planted pieces for next year. Spring. Is. Now.

It’s seed magazine day! It’s seed magazine day!

Posted on April 15, 2022 by Sprout and Share

It’s been a long, cold winter. There’s no end in sight. It’s dreary, depressing and you’re looking for a light at the end of the tunnel. Then, one day, you walk out to the mailbox. The heavens part, and that light slices through the greyness to illuminate an otherwise unassuming group of papers stapled together. Birds chirp. Unicorns frolick. Everything takes on a rainbow hue.

Okay, that probably doesn’t happen. It is still late January. But, what some might see as unsolicited trash, you recognize as more. So much more.

Much like the object of Billy Madison’s delight, that seed catalogue stirs the fire within you. It gets your garden juices flowing. Because, again similarly, you eagerly anticipate ogling those round, supple, possibly pointed things that bring life to your backyard.

Now, all you have to do is choose the right ones. It’s simple, right? There are only a million options. Many of which are named with words you’ve never heard or conjure thoughts of mad scientists conducting onerous experiments.

If you’re anything like me – and, for your sake, let’s hope you aren’t – you want them all.

That’s not a good idea.

It turns out those little packets have A LOT of seeds. Like hundreds. But they don’t tell you that. There’s no serving size listed. They do give you weight options, but who are the people that know how many radish seeds come in 2 ounces? I don’t think I want to know them.

So, despite that compulsion to pick everything (of course you could fit in some asparagus plants), it does make sense to show a semblance of restraint. And that, fellow gardeners, is when it’s time to come up with a plan.

I know, that sounds boring AF. You’re not here to think ahead. You’re here to chuck a bunch of seeds in the ground and suckle from the sweet, sweet teat of Mother Nature in two to three months. I get it. That’s generally my approach as well.

But, if you are looking for advice from someone with countless gardening failures under their belt, here are a few tips to select the right seeds:

Figure out how much space you have. This sounds pretty silly, and I swear I’m not being condescending. But, you’ll be surprised how quick that real estate gets eaten up. That’s especially true when you account for the size of the mature plant (which I never do – like a moron).
Don’t overlook the planting schedule. You can squeeze in more bounty by cycling through cold weather and warm weather plants in the same beds. Radishes, beets, lettuce, spring peas can all be grown and enjoyed by the time your summer plants are ready to enter the mix.
Stick to the top performers – at least at first. Read the descriptions and find the seeds that have been cultivated for maximum results and minimal diseases. This might mean passing on the heirloom cucumbers (silly hipsters), but you’ll increase your chance for a successful summer.
Get a little crazy. It might not be spring break quite yet, but there’s still plenty of reason to flash your wild side. The point of a garden is to have fun. Want to grow artichokes? Give it a try. Peanuts? I mean, Jimmy Carter could do it. I like your chances.

Every garden is different and every gardener should develop their own approach (I know, I should have opened with that and saved you three minutes of inane ramblings). But one thing we can all agree on is that Seed Magazine Day is one of the best days of the year – easily topping arbor day, St Patrick’s day and your birthday (mainly because I don’t care about your birthday).

There’s no need to wait on that varmint up in Pennsylvania. Your local seed repository or tractor supply store knows when spring is coming. And, they’ll deliver that news directly to your mailbox.

So, get excited, have hope and look forward to caressing those glorious orbs of life. It’s Seed Magazine day people. There’s no turning back now.

Sprout and Share

A Family Garden Project

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