Spring has sprung! Birds are chirping and flirting, flowers are blooming, frogs are gronking! A wonderful time of the year and the time when a gardener’s thoughts turn to cleaning up the garden, pruning the shrubs and calculating when the heck we can eat the first tomatoes.
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However, there is a period before this, between full-on winter and exuberant spring, that causes wide-spread, and usually incurable, mental aberration in the most level-headed of gardeners. These poor souls, deprived of Vitamin Green for months, begin to suffer the delusion that it is perfectly alright to start tomato and pepper and zinnia seeds in the middle of March, a full two months before you can even think about moving them outside (at least in northern zones, like me.)
What triggers this hysteria? Since a truly dedicated gardener has already purchased and received their seeds 2 months ago (doesn’t everyone order seeds in January?), we’ve been staring at them longingly, dreaming of the produce to come, planning and re-planning our garden beds, reading any and all material even vaguely related to green, growing things. Then the weather starts to tease. We went from 9 degrees on March 7 to 50 (ohmygod!) on March 15. Finally, we starting gibbering with frustration and throw caution to the winds!
Out come the peat pellets, yogurt cups, plastic food containers and seed starting mix!
When the first sprouts appear, it is cause for celebration. Clothes are thrown in all directions, libations are poured, bells rung . . . well, maybe not but a certain quiet satisfaction is felt and the pure wonder of seeing a whole, living plant come out of a little crumb of a seed. This feeling lasts for some time, calming the frustration of the slow moving season.
The baby plants might erupt from little crumbs of seeds but they sure don’t stay as small as they started. Those trays of fine seed? They become little plants which each need their own space. So you tease them apart and pop them into their very own pots with a name tag. Now you have three 6-paks where you once had one little tray. Hmmm . . . well, move a few things around and clear off the end of the shelf. Those peat pellet plants? They need bigger pots, too. Each tomato and pepper gets its own four inch pot. Suddenly, the two shelves you used to start things very comfortably is noticeably over-crowded and not everyone is getting good light.
But as a strong, resourceful person, well able to overcome any adversity, you decide to rearrange your shelves completely, expand your lighting to under the table then cross your fingers and hope for the best.
Whew! Crisis averted!
Yes, this is a lovely feeling while it lasts. And it lasts right up until the time it occurs to you that these little green things are growing awfully fast and, no, they are not going to slow down, no matter sweetly you beg them to. You start counting the days until they can go out and realize it’s entirely too far in the future. You start to feel a small, creeping doubt about the wisdom of your actions.
Then it hits you. Oh. My. God. I have to fertilize these things! Now! Soon! For reals! The seed starting mix has no extras at all — it’s not needed since the seeds have everything they need to get started packed right in them. Once they get their true leaves, though, it is time to consider feeding them before they starve to death. You can wait for a while but eventually you have to cave to the inevitable.
So here is where I’m at now. I’ve put it off and put it off but it’s beyond time to do the deed and feed the little buggers. My problem? I’m absolutely terrified to do so. The plants are already so huge the tomatoes have flowers and the zinnias have buds. Really. I’m fairly sure if I fertilize them, I’ll start hearing “Feed me, Seymour” when I walk out in the sun room. I can’t possibly put them outside for at least two more weeks, likely closer to three but I don’t want them being rampageous in the house!
Here’s a shot I took last Tuesday, 4/23:
So there we are. Bad planning on my part has led to a horticultural crisis of epic proportions. If/when I fertilize them, will they eat the cats? Is Gracie the Wonder Pug in any danger? Should I choose the machete or the flame-thrower?
;)
In all seriousness, what are your thoughts on the matter? Is there any way to slow these things down? Have you done the same foolish thing and how did you manage? I don’t have a coldframe, though that would solve the problem nicely. Is it a good idea to pick the flowers off? They’re not going to get pollinated anyway and I’d rather they put their energy into regular growth.
Thanks for any and all advice! While I’ve been a gardener for a long time, this is only the second year I’ve started from seed indoors so tips and tricks are welcome.
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