Planting seeds

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Want to know a secret?

I drag my feet every year when it’s time to plant my first tray of starts. From the moment I put that first seed in the ground, the offseason officially ends. True, it’s a long time between now the days when the farm is in full swing, but it never seems like it. That first seed in the ground marks my commitment to starting the entire whirlwind all over again. Don’t get me wrong — I love that whirlwind, just not … quite … yet.

But, today is the day. The second my fingers touch the soil, all my in trepidation fades away and I fall back in love with all things farming – the smells, the magic of planting a seed and watching it sprout, the joy of feeding yourself and your community. I’ve literally been doing this on some level all my life, and with that comes the comfort of knowing and the adventure of not knowing at the same time.

This year, I’m starting my tomatoes a little later than I have in many past years. We grow indeterminate tomatoes, the kind that will grow taller and taller until you trim them in August, forcing them to put their energy into the fruit already on the vine instead of into shooting up toward the ever-cooling sky. These plants love to grow tall very fast, and every year it is a balancing act between wanting them to be big enough to hit the ground running and produce tomatoes as soon as possible, and not wanting them to become root-bound scraggly messes before the ground has warmed enough to put them in the hightunnels.

I used to start them Feb. 1 – now, I wait another couple weeks and I pot them up regularly to ensure them have plenty of room to grow. By the time they go in the ground, many are in 10-12-inch pots. I’ve done a little experimenting, and that extra large pot really makes a huge difference to the health of the plant and its productivity later. Maybe it’s because that extra soil stays more consistently hydrated. All I know is if I can, I go big.

This year, I am growing a few new varieties of tomatoes. We have always grown cherry tomatoes instead of full-size varieties, but this year, since we are selling our starts, I threw in a few mid-size tomatoes, too. One is called Oregon Spring, a determinant (meaning it won’t grow over 2 feet high or so) that is said to be early to fruit and cold tolerant. Another determinant tomato returning to our gardens this year is a family favorite. Years ago, my father sent me seeds for a variety called Longkeeper. These tomatoes have a thick outer layer that allows them to last for months. We pick them yellow and wrap them in newspaper and store them in flats in a cool spot. Cutting into a fresh tomato in December in Alaska is a victory of epic proportions.

Of course, there will be the Sungolds and the Sweet 100s, too, but also Johnny’s greenhouse-friendly versions of those same varieties that are less likely to succumb to the moldy, wet days of August. It feels like our tomato game is strong this year, but time, and the weather will tell the ultimate story.

For now, I’ll just enjoy the fun of starting the 2021 season in earnest by sinking my fingers in the soil.

Close-up of a young green seedling emerging from dark soil, with a water droplet on its leaf, symbolizing growth and new beginnings in gardening or agriculture.

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