Like every current event, the Growth of Myrtle has historical context. To merrily mix my metaphors (and alliterate [un]abashedly): When it comes to growing giant pumpkins this is not MH the Grower’s first rodeo.

His first entry into the Damariscotta Pumpkinfest Weigh-Off was in 2012, when he actually entered two pumpkins. Why? In his own words, “I didn’t know to narrow the plant down to one pumpkin.” The weights for those two fruits were 133 pounds and 100.5 pounds.

That explains the “Words from Others” quote for this post. MH demonstrated his superior intellect and competitive nature by learning from the past and insuring the future was brighter. He also demonstrated that he is not insane, by not doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result.

I digress. In 2013 MH applied his experience and knowledge and grew what for him would become his personal best: A pumpkin that weighed a whopping 289.5 pounds. The fruit of 2013’s labors:





In 2014, there was no pumpkin entry from MH. He claims “Moving Maelstrom” and as anyone who has moved from one state to another (and I don’t mean from calm to frenetic) can attest, and has focused on the first few days in a new home just trying to find your spatula…. or pillow….because after a few days of being lost you almost don’t care which you rest your head on… moving is all-consuming, and growing a giant pumpkin drops to the bottom of your priority list.

So he took a break that year. 2015 saw another entry, and this beauty didn’t beat his previous record, but 265 pounds is nothing to sneeze at. Here is a photo of that year’s work:



You might note that the pumpkin from 2015, even though lighter in weight, looks larger than the 2013 record-holder. Attribute that to internal density and water weight. Every woman knows the facts about water weight, and that explains the text under this post’s “Appreciating” section. If you’ve never been a dieting female (and no such creature exists), you won’t appreciate the significance of water weight on appearance. Trust me, trust all of us 51%-ers, it matters.

So how is Myrtle doing today, and how does she compare to her predecessors?

MH decided that Myrtle was growing so quickly, that she needed protection from the UV rays from the sun. His concern was that her rapid growth would cause the rind to split. So he lightly covered her with floating row cover cloth, and propped up a special umbrella to shield his girl from the afternoon sun.


And Myrtle is responding to this extra TLC. Here’s what she looked like today.  Note that her girth pushed the umbrella off and to the side :



I don’t care if that size is due to water weight or just good pumpkin genes, but I think she’s on her way (weigh) to topping 289.5! Stand back and stay tuned….



“Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”

— George Santayana, philosopher, essayist, poet, (1863 – 1952)



“An estimated 50 to 60 percent of our total body weight is water, and how much we retain fluctuates in response to our eating habits. For example, indulging in salty foods can trigger your cells to sop up water like a sponge,” says Rebecca Lewis, R.D. …. “Similarly, a diet high in sugar can lead to higher-than-normal insulin levels in your blood, which can make your body retain sodium (translation: more SpongeBob action). And when you carb it up (because pasta is delicious), for every gram of carbohydrate that your body stores to use for energy later (known as glycogen), it also stores three grams of water—which explains why you sometimes feel like the Michelin man post-pizza,” she says.



The title of this post says it all: The pumpkin formerly known as “Powell 1548” has been re-named by MH the Grower. He is proving that he is a good parent by bestowing a name upon the pumpkin that will not elicit teasing as it grows to maturity, by naming her Myrtle. And if she continues to grow at this rate, she won’t be known as “Moaning Myrtle,” the ghost of Harry Potter fame, but “Groaning Myrtle,” as I’m already starting the stress about how we’re going to get her out of the garden and onto the weighing scale. Myrtle has until October 1 to make my fears come true.

Myrtle is a beautiful name! It is of Latin origin, and from the English word “myrtle” for the evergreen shrub. The shrub was said to be sacred to Venus as a symbol of love.

The diminutive is “Myrtie” and while her size won’t encourage that nickname, our deep affection for her spirit and energy will find us calling this pale behemoth Myrtie at every opportunity!

It is also an unusual name. It was first used as a given name in the 19th century – a time when girls were often given the name of a plant or flower.   1918 was the year the name was most popular, with 4,000 babies receiving the name. If you were unlucky enough, or unique enough to be a boy named Myrtle in 2011, you would have been #13,694 in the rankings of popular baby names.  Since 1880, a total of 116 boys were named Myrtle, while 135,266 girls were named Myrtle. Other fun facts about the name:

Are you a numerologist? Me neither. But here’s what the site “sheknows.com” says about the name from a numerology perspective:

“SoulUrge Number: 5

People with this name have a deep inner desire for travel and adventure, and want to set their own pace in life without being governed by tradition.

Expression Number: 3

People with this name tend to be creative and excellent at expressing themselves. They are drawn to the arts, and often enjoy life immensely. They are often the center of attention, and enjoy careers that put them in the limelight. They tend to become involved in many different activities, and are sometimes reckless with both their energies and with money.”


Those predictions work for me. Myrtle is absolutely setting her own pace in life, and is absolutely the center of attention!

So, let me show you what she looks like now. Myrtle is growing by leaps and bounds. The blossom was fertilized on July 19th and  15 days later it looked like this:


And now it has been 29 days, and she looks like this:


The tiny blue piece of foam core is woefully inadequate to cover the bottom surface of this monster. At this pace, I will be posting significant updates about her growth almost daily.

Myrtle, Myrtle, I am groaning already.



“[Exit, pursued by a bear.]”

— William Shakespeare, “A Winter’s Tale”, Act 3, Scene III


During peak growth, the pumpkins can add as much as 50 pounds of weight per day.

  • New York Botanical Gardens

I was witness to an event that was neither immaculate nor improper, and had nothing to do with storks. Because this post was written by me, it is G-rated. I appreciate science, but when it comes to love, I vote for mystery. I hope you’re not disappointed.

It was time. The Powell 1548 had added enough heft and reach to the Mother Vine that it was time to select The One True Pumpkin, the one that would receive all care, nourishment, love, and admiration. A lot like the first child in every family.

Here’s a photo of the Mother Vine, ready to have her life changed forever:



She sported blossoms of both sex, male…



…and female.


And MH the Grower found the best positioned female blossom along the vine, the healthiest specimen, and gave a thumbs-up (actually, he pointed) to the blossom that would bear fruit:


The first step was to cull all competing fruits. Some of the blossoms had already been pollinated by bees, and so they had to be removed.


Pumpkin vines and fruits are loaded with sap, or chitin. Chitin is a derivative of cellulose and functions in much the same way as keratin. Insects, arachnids, and crustaceans have chitin, and so does Powell 1548. So the broken vines needed to be tied off to prevent them from depleting too much sap from the plant.



MH demonstrated how much chitin is in the fruits themselves. He ran a thumbnail down one of the culled fruits and the sap leaped out. It binds the wound, hardening and protecting the plant from further injury. It’s like a liquid bandage, but doesn’t come with cartoon characters on it:


The next step was to select two promising male flowers and peel the petals back, revealing the stamen, the male organ of the plant.





Once the petals were removed, the two candidates were compared, and one was selected to be the pollinator.


The female blossom was opened:


And the pollen-filled stamen was applied to the sticky pistil, transferring pollen grains.


MH closed the female blossom’s petals around the male stamen, holding the stamen in contact with the pistil:


And tied the blossom closed around the stamen:


The petals firmly tied, the stamen was in place to do its job.



And MH the Grower anticipated the size of the swelling fruit to be in the next few days.Size-With-Hands

He was, as always, completely correct. The next post will show just how correct he was!




“Incidentally the Latin plural for stamen is Stamina, a thread in the warp of human life spun by the Fates. It is of course also the English word meaning endurance.”

— “Stamens and Pistils 101”; Rocky Mountain; National Park Service, http://www.nps.gov



True Pumpkins can be differentiated from other squashes by their fruit stalk: it is hard and polygonal in Pumpkins, but soft and round in other squashes. But varieties within and between the species can cross-pollinate to produce hybrids: hence the great number of shapes and sizes, and the difficulty of strict botanical distinctions.


The Kraken, legendary sea monster introduced to us by the Norwegians, has nothing on Powell 1548.

The Kraken eats sailors, boats, and whales. Powell 1548 is eating my garden.

I need to catch you all up on the caging, the release, and the explosive growth of this pumpkin plant. It is awesome to behold. My excuse for not posting earlier? I plead Summer In Maine, when residents work feverishly to treat visitors to our spectacular state in the manner they deserve. A stream of guests to our Barn Loft apartment, the stream of visitors to Husband’s art gallery, the frequent art students that set up their easels in my garden – all demand and deserve attention and appreciation.  (If you want info on any of our businesses, contact me by commenting on this post.  We’ll talk.)  It is a busy time of year for us and all Mainers.

That’s the excuse. No more. Powell 1548 is going to require constant updating, because you cannot believe what we’re witnessing. It’s going to take 3 posts to do this. This post will show the growth of the vine, the next post will show the fertilization process, and the third catch-up post will show how The Chosen One is busting out all over, even though it’s August and not June.

Here we go: A few photos to show the growth of tendrils and the growing flower buds:



The tiny cage that was first erected around the vulnerable seedling had to be enlarged to accommodate the growing plant. MH the Grower moved the stakes and used a larger length of wire fencing.




The plant was fed liquid fish emulsion and bone meal. The bone meal came in a cleaned jar of Skippy, and apparently the fragrance could not be contained by a mere blue plastic lid. MacKenzie, the cupcake masquerading as a Labrador Retriever, was entranced:


Full disclosure: My cupcake is also a thief. Shortly after that photo was taken, she uncharacteristically tried to walk off with the jar of bone meal in her mouth. She dropped it on command, but she looked mighty disappointed. A Kraken has nothing over the power of those sad, sad eyes.

Powell 1548 was almost immediately banging on the chicken wire door. Daenerys Targaryen may be George R.R. Martin’s Mother of Dragons, and Breaker of Chains, but the Powell 1548 is the Mother of Vines and Breaker of Chicken Wire. MH the Grower released the Kraken, aka the mighty Atlantic Giant pumpkin plant.

Once the puny wire restraints were removed, Powell 1548 was fed with alfalfa tea:


The plant started to set flowers, the tendrils reached, and the wall was breached:



LargeLeafOnWall_July 18

And off it goes, racing across the garden, roaring with power, intimidating all in its path. My poor kale. It doesn’t stand a chance:


Correction: Not all are intimidated. Enter MH the Grower in the next post. He has the power to choose, and he had his eye on one particular blossom. Stay tuned….



“What a Kraken grasps it does not lose, be it a longship or leviathan.”

― George R.R. Martin, author, “A Feast for Crows”




“As a garden fertilizer alfalfa meal is used to increase organic matter in the soil and makes an excellent fast and effective soil conditioner. The high amounts of carbohydrates and protein encourage beneficial soil microbes and earthworms that are responsible for quickly breaking down the nutrients and making them available for use by the plants… Alfalfa tea can be made from meal, pellets or hay, it can be used by spraying directly on the plant as a foliar spray or as a liquid fertilizer around the base of all types of vegetable plants. Alfalfa tea can be applied every 1-4 weeks or as often as needed throughout the growing season.”


Powell 1548 is thriving, but there were some tense moment a few weeks ago. The warm weather encouraged the overwintering striped cucumber beetles to swarm over the growing leaves. The beetles had harassed my zucchini and zephyr squashes last summer, and I battled them with weekly applications of Captain Jack’s Deadbug Brew:




MOFGA describes the active ingredient, spinosad, in this product as follows:


“Insecticides available for organic growers include pyrethrin… and spinosad…Pyrethrin is primarily a contact toxin, while spinosad acts both as a contact and a stomach poison. But, none of these provides a highly effective ‘knockdown” of beetle populations. Still if the beetles have already gotten out of hand and you need to do something, they will help.– MOFGA.org”


It was effective last year. But not this year. MH the Grower brought out his own concoction that included small amounts of sevin and Dawn dishwashing liquid, and a generous amount of water, and that did the trick. Fewer of these beetles were spotted after the application:




The damage the beetles do is not limited to eating holes into the leaves. The fruit is scarred, and the larvae feed on the tender stems, girdling them. But the most damaging result is caused by the cucumber beetle secreting bacterial wilt from its stomach. The bacteria spreads to the plant’s vascular system, and causes the leaves to wilt. If not treated, the plant will die.


And, as misery loves company, cucumber beetles attract other cucumber beetles. As someone who is phobic about things that swarm, this was a challenging time.


I am happy to report that MH’s method worked, and Powell 1548 is growing! Stay tuned – I will post, very shortly!, about The Chosen One. Yes, one fruit has been anointed and is receiving rock-star attention.  I am already in love.



“Worm or beetle – drought or tempest –
On a farmer’s land may fall,
Each is loaded full o’ ruin,
But a mortgage beats ’em all.”

— Will Carleton, American poet (1845-1912)


I am intoxicated. Not by love, ingested substances, or the drumbeats of war, but by anticipation. I am suffused with anticipation, awaiting panicles that will bloom and release a fragrance that will fill my garden this summer, enticing hummingbirds and humans alike to breathe in, to drink, to find beauty and solace from the white blossoms. Today I planted a healthy specimen of clethra alnifolia, also known as summersweet.


I first encountered this plant on Martha’s Vineyard, years and years ago. The large shrub attracted clouds of happy, humming bees, and filled the air around it with a sweet perfume. The scent was not heavy or cloying. It was as light as a sea breeze, and as sweet as summer itself. I have dreamed of this plant ever since.


And yet the actual purchase and planting of this shrub was NOT planned. I had recently moved 14 struggling echinaceas out of a spot that was borderline “partial shade” and into the full sun of another location in the garden. The echinaceas immediately responded with better posture and a welcome change of attitude. (Nothing worse than a sulky coneflower.)


So I had this large circular area, UNPLANTED. Can you imagine the effect this had on me?  A section of garden, dug, edged, and…empty. It was almost unbearable.


My first thought was to plant a baptisia, a false indigo. But….at the risk of sounding petulant, I don’t like them very much. I’ve planted them before. They’re members of the pea family, and jeez, there are SO MANY lupines blooming right now. Yes, yes, they’re beautiful, they’re iconic, I love them every June, but how many dark-blue pea blossoms can a girl stand all at once? I’m full up. I am replete with pea plants. (I am also a little bored.)


And then, from the depths of my aging mind, I remembered: summersweet, the shrub that entranced me so long ago with its sweet fragrance and lovely appearance. Would it grow in Maine? Would it grow in this particular spot in my garden? Would it be the right height, the right width? I raced to the internet.


I learned that summersweet is considered “native” to Maine. Oh joy! Oh rapture!


Would it grow in full sun, partial shade, or full shade? Yes. What?! But the cultivation requirements were clear: summersweet will grow under each of these conditions.


It is fragrant and attracts hummingbirds. (Knew that.) This particular variety can grow to be 8’ tall – uh oh. Too tall. Until the garden expert at Moose Crossing (Yes, my local nursery has that charming Maine-appropriate name) said flatly, “It won’t grow to 8’ in Maine. You’ll get a 6-footer…..Maybe.”) Perfect!


It is also listed as being low maintenance (thank you), its season of interest is both summer and fall (also works for me), and its habit is “upright.” Well of course it is. I would bet it’s both upright and upstanding as well.


Here are a few photos of my newest darling:




And finally, the budding panicles:



Fragrance-to-come. Anticipation of intoxication. This summer is shaping up nicely.



“To be overcome by the fragrance of flowers is a delectable form of defeat.”

— (John) Beverley Nichols, British author, playwright, journalist, 1898-1983

The seedling was a Pierpont, and its parent weighed-in at a whopping 1,196 pounds. And sometime within its first 24 hours in my garden, in the dark of night, a villain stole in, dug in the rich soft dirt, and killed the seedling. Pierpont is gone.


MH the Grower (formerly blogged about as Michael Horst) responded: “It is what it is.” And he gamely went back to the Pinkham Plantation nursery…




…and selected one of the few remaining seedlings left. A Powell, this time. And one whose parent weighed 1,548. A more impressive lineage and perhaps the reward for perseverance.




Another reward for this second attempt was that I was present to document The Planting in complete, possibly excruciating, detail. Let’s start with The Digging of the Hole:




Note the incredibly dark rich organic compost that will be the home of this lucky Powell 1548. (I like naming it that. Alpha + Numeric = the pumpkin version of an R2D2 or a C3PO.)


The hole was dressed with a fertilizer called Bio-Starter, an organic multi-component mix that includes mycorhizzae, a beneficial fungi. Those little white bits? Evidence of the addition of Bio-Starter. Let there be no doubt.


The Hole


Next, one modest tablespoon of Superthrive, mixed with a full gallon of water. Superthrive is a hormone-type plant growth stimulator. Trust that MH the Grower is not interested in cultivating an “Oh, isn’t that a cute little pumpkin!” No, he’s going for a Powell 1548 – an Atlantic Giant. A monster. This is, after all, an entry into the Pumpkinfest Weigh-Off in October, so there’s no messing around. Superthrive it is.




And in it goes, a robust healthy pumpkin seedling with its first set of true leaves, one of which is large and points in the direction that the main stem wants to grow.




And my dog MacKenzie watched from afar, content to be near all of us, happy that she’d found some shade, and not quite certain what all the fuss was about.




MH paid full attention to this leaf and its demonstration of intent. The seedling was planted with the leaf facing the greatest area of open space in the reserved portion of the garden. That vine will have nothing in its way for at least 20 feet. For the purpose of humor, I wish the seedling was facing west, but it isn’t. It’s facing north, and so I must say, “Go north, young seedling! Go north!”


Here’s a photo of the open area, the wide wilderness that the Powell 1548 will explore:




Because this was a do-over, the decision was made to protect the seedling from nighttime marauders. I offered my stash of tomato cages, but that proved both ineffective and silly. MH decided that four stakes, a roll of chicken wire, a length of rope, and a recently unearthed brick would do the trick. Here’s the entire sequence:







And the result:




This photo is comforting to MH and myself, and we hope it is deeply disturbing to the assassins of the night, the ones that care not for infant pumpkins and care more for the grubs, worms, and other burrowing creatures they are certain reside deep in the compost. They will not get the chance to try again. The Powell 1548 is caged. For a day or two, at least. That baby’s gonna grow, and FAST.


Stand back, and stay tuned.



“It’s not how many times you get knocked down that count, it’s how many times you get back up.”


— George A. Custer, Cavalry Commander (1839 – 1876)



And so it begins, another rollicking edition of the Damariscotta Pumpkinfest & Regatta, and I am more than just a delighted spectator this year. I made a grand bargain with neighbor and friend Michael Horst: I’m giving him a sunny 20’ section of my garden and he’s giving me permission to blog about this enterprise to my heart’s content. And, whose heart wouldn’t be content to follow the progress of the growing of an Atlantic Giant pumpkin?!


This event involves the entire community. Adults and children volunteer to grow the pumpkins. The pumpkins are grown and then weighed, prize money is awarded, the pumpkins are deployed throughout the town, and artists decorate them with wild abandon and enthusiasm. Some people turn their giant pumpkins into boats fitted with outboard motors and race them in the harbor. (That’s the “Regatta” part of the event.) Businesses and non-profits support the event, sponsor the artists, organize parades, hire street musicians, arrange for giant slingshots to hurl pumpkins great distances, and set up giant cranes to drop pumpkins from great heights. It is a lively time.


Pumpkinfest takes place over Columbus Day weekend, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves. This past Sunday was “Seedling Sunday”, when 600 Atlantic Giant pumpkin seedlings were given away to Squashbucklers (formerly known as “Volunteer Growers”). The seedlings were distributed at Pinkham’s Plantation, a local nursery, and the Squashbucklers were also given growing instructions and five gallons of compost to give the tiny plants a healthy start.


Sponsors of the event were present, including the Maine Maritime Museum that arrived in this audacious ride:





Other notables included representatives from the sponsoring Farnsworth Art Museum, the Boothbay Railway Village, and local media personalities.


The real draw for the Squashbucklers, though, was the lure of the seedlings and the expert guidance of the Pumpkin Posse, the volunteers who assist in every phase of this 6-month long event.




Here is what greeted Michael as he entered the greenhouse:




The seedlings are donated by the previous year’s growers, who are ferociously proud of their hefty pumpkins and the genetics that produced them. Each seedling is marked with the grower’s name and the weight of the pumpkin from which the seeds were harvested.


Much like a champion racehorse, you can select your seedling by its breeding and its trainer (grower). This seedling was grown by Powell, and came from a monster weighing 1,355 pounds.



My friend selected a “Gabourey” seedling, and a “Pierpont” seedling, which was grown by last year’s winner of both the Pumpkinfest weigh-off AND set a new record for the state of Maine at 1,727.5 pounds. Michael’s “Pierpont” seedling came from a pumpkin that weighed 1,196 pounds. An impressive bloodline, for sure.




He was instructed by an expert about what to watch for in Vine Direction. The orientation of the fruit to the vine is critical. More on that later.




Michael prepared the planting site in my garden. It has been dug, de-rocked, and a half-yard of fluffy, gorgeous black organic compost is now in place. Soon either the Gabourey or the Pierpont seedling will be planted.


Stay tuned! This blog will carry photos and commentary on all aspects of this particular seedling’s moment in the sun.

Pretty Peas

What’s Up in the Garden?


Well, not the peas. Yet. They’re doing their thing in the dirt under a blanket of chopped leaves and snow. I’ve planted Sutton’s Harbinger, and Green Arrow, both from Seed Saver’s Exchange.


At the ready, two trellises: one made of mullein stalks, and one made of leftover lattice:





The snow melted in two days (thank you, Lamb-y March), and I’m watching patiently for those first seedlings to emerge.


Seeds are planted in my office, and my greenhouse is bracing for the planting of almost 500 seeds.  Photos and text to come!


Autumn is upon us and winter is coming. That means I’m looking out the windows and loving the burgundies and golds and stubborn greens on the trees. It means I’m reconnecting with the guy that plows our driveway, and I’m annoying Husband by insisting that we drain the hoses and bring the lawn furniture into the basement BEFORE it snows. It also means I’m looking forward to growing food in my greenhouse. Say what?!

Thanks to Eliot Coleman, I think my greenhouse will not just serve as a solarium during the winter. I think it’s going to produce food for us even when the nighttime temperatures dip below -10 degrees. I’m going to take the principles outlined in his “Four-Season Harvest”, and put them into practice.   Coleman gardens in Maine. He is the essence of Yankee ingenuity and Maine practicality. He believes in low-tech, in no guilt, in low cost. If I weren’t already married….


The principle of the four-season garden is that you grow plants that are cold hardy, and you start them early enough in the year that they have reached maturity when the frost arrives. In that way, you aren’t growing in the frozen season, but you are still harvesting. The way this is done is to have your plants under multiple layers.   He uses hoop houses that then have covered low tunnels inside.

In Coleman’s own words:

“Our four-season harvest is based on a simple premise. Whereas the growing season may be chiefly limited to the warmer months, the harvest season has no such limits. We enjoy a year-round harvest by following two practices: succession planting and crop protection.…only the harvest season and not the growing season, needs to be extended. The distinction is important because the harvest season can be extended with cool-weather vegetables and simple crop protection.”

Coleman states that every layer of protection increases your hardiness zone by 1.5 zones. So, outside my Maine greenhouse it is Zone 5. Inside the greenhouse it is zone 6+ and I’m now in New York. And under the next layer of protection (my covered seed table), it will be Zone 8 and Georgia. Can I grow winter greens in Georgia? I trust Eliot Coleman and so I’ll say yes.

My greenhouse is built on a gravel base, and so I cannot use his low-tunnel technique of planting directly in the ground. What I am doing is using the wonderful seed table Husband built me to hold the seed trays and then covering that table.

I started planting two weeks ago. I chose 4 plants: claytonia (which my Boston-based daughter tells me is on the trendier menus in Boston restaurants!), mizuna, tatsoi, and mache. Here is what that first planting looked like in the greenhouse. Note that I’m only using the top shelf of the table at this point:


Following Coleman’s recommendation of succession planting, I started a second wave of seedlings this past weekend. I was concerned that the wire mesh that forms the surface of the two levels would allow cold air to come up underneath the trays and freeze the seedlings. (Ladies, think of the canyons of New York in January, when you’re wearing a skirt.)


So Husband took some unused pink foam-insulation boards and cut them to size for me. I was working out in the garden, went to the basement workshop to remind him of my desperate need for pink planks, and found this waiting for me outside the garage door:


I emptied both levels on the table, and pushed the foam insulation into place:


Then I set all the seed trays on top of the insulation. Here is the before and after photos of the trays, empty and planted:



Here is what I’m hoping to harvest in about 4 weeks:

Claytonia (montia perfoliata): Coleman says claytonia “should win the winter salad sleeper award for being both unknown and irresistible.” It is also known as “miner’s lettuce.” It is the hardiest of the winter salad crops and it’s so pretty it’s “almost ornamental”. I read that I’m never to thin the plant, but instead I should grasp the leaves and cut the stems below them. By doing this, claytonia keeps producing new leaves throughout the winter.

Mizuna (brassica rapa nipposinica): This is billed as a mild and delicate Oriental plant, with a slight flavor of mustard. It has fringed leaves and I read that it will yield over a long period if it is cut back to encourage new leaf production.

Tatsoi (brassica rapa rosularis): Also known as spinach mustard or rosette bok choy, this is another Oriental vegetable. I hear that it even looks nutritious because of its dark green shiny leaves. It is supposed to survive the coldest weather.

Mache (valerianella locusta): This is also known as corn salad, forming a small rosette of tender leaves. Coleman says, “It is to winter what sweet corn is to summer: a plant adapted to its season. It is the queen of vigor and robustness.” The recommended harvesting technique is to cut the whole plant at soil level and serve it intact in a salad without cutting it up.

Here are two photos of the first seedlings to emerge, on the top shelf: mizuna and tatsoi:



You’ll notice that the plants look identical! That’s because all you’re seeing right now are the cotyledons, the first set of leaves. The plants will differentiate when they push out their first set of true leaves.

What’s next? We bought 4 wire rods yesterday at the hardware store, and Husband is going to drill holes in the top shelf frame of the table. We will bend and insert the rods that will act as wickets. Then I will drape floating row cover cloth over the entire table, securing it with clothespins. Another advantage of planting indoors is I don’t have to worry about wind lifting up the floating cover. Coleman’s book advises having the cloth in place well above the plants, as contact with the plants will allow frost to grab and kill the tender seedlings.

So, Part Two of this post will be the installation of the wire wickets and the floating cloth. Photos will accompany, and hopefully I will have photos of the emerging plants to share with you soon!