Who needs seeds? I do. Especially now.
Immersed as we are in a constant barrage of bad news, plus this grey-as-a-Norway-rat winter (where have all the brilliant blue skies, crisp white snow and bone-crackling temperatures gone?), seeds succour my soul. They invariably prompt optimistic thoughts — of spring, of buds opening on the trees, of the thrill of seeing things sprout, of picking tomatoes still warm from the sun, of sitting outside with a bottle of vino on long, hot August nights, listening to frogs and crickets.
The old shoe box where I stuff my seeds actually functions like a magic charm. Even when there’s freezing rain plick-plicking against the living room skylight — a regular occurrence these days — I haul this treasured box out, rummage through the haphazardly-saved envelopes, and I’m instantly transported back to bygone summers.
Ah yes . . . there’s a half-used, crumpled packet of watermelon radish seeds, grimy with garden dirt, from last year . . . the Fagiolo Nano Violetto from Italy and Alicia’s Chilean Warted Melon, which I never got around to planting . . . some leftover quinoa (a big letdown, because my plants were attacked by nasty little bugs) . . . brown stripey seeds of a runner bean from the Republic of Georgia which someone pressed me to try, but I forgot to . . . and, always, empty zinnia packets from Renee’s Garden in California, because they’re my fave annual flower to grow (and the watercolour illustrations on the packets are exquisite) . . .
I save so many seeds — and most, I confess, never get planted. Tomato seeds do, and zinnias, and at least one new vegetable and a herb every year, to keep gardening interesting.
These few selections are started under lights in my basement, in modest quantities. (It’s easy to get overwhelmed if you attempt too many.) But other plants-in-waiting sit reproachfully — sometimes for years — in the shoebox, waiting for their chance to shine, until they grow too old to bother with. Then, feeling a bit guilty, I toss them out.
No matter. What counts, during our interminable winters, is the escapist fantasies that seeds inspire. For me, it’s better than drooling over pictures of beaches in the Caribbean. I’ve also picked up, as a result of this hoarding, useful information about seeds’ viability — something gardening catalogues rarely mention.
For instance: Seeds of many leafy plants like lettuce, brassicas (which include trendy kale and cauliflower), green beans and peas, also basil, don’t seem to last longer than a couple of seasons. After that, they germinate grudgingly.
Yet it’s a different story for tomatoes, some cucurbits — butternut and acorn squash, but not zucchini, cucumbers or melons — and zinnias. They may stay viable for years. A packet of zinnia seeds labelled “Sow by May 1981” recently sprouted spectacularly for a British gardener and produced profuse flowers.
However, in spite of my pack-rat tendencies, I don’t depend solely on saved seed. I also buy some every year. After all, the catalogues offer delicious fantasy, too, and the tiny possibilities of new life that they describe in such glowing terms do provide an irresistible bang for the buck. Where else can you find so much potential for discovery and new excitements, at the cost of only a cup of coffee?
So bring on the seeds. During this wretched winter, they’re my lifesavers.
Some suppliers I recommend:
Hope Seeds: Based in Annapolis Royal, Nova Scotia. Unusual offerings, like a Jerusalem artichoke from Russia and green runner beans named after Joseph Dugas, an early Acadian settler. hopeseed.com 902-286-4673
Renee’s Garden, California. What can I say? Renee’s seeds always work, because she tests them herself. Online only. reneesgarden.com
Richters Herbs, Uxbridge: Fascinating catalogue, because they stock seeds (and started plants) of just about every herb you can think of, plus lots more. Their scented greenhouses are a delight to explore in spring. richters.com 1-800-668-4372.
Stokes Seeds, St. Catharines: This biggie supplier has a new, scaled-down print catalogue for gardeners with great, clear photos and easy-to-read descriptions. The previous, encyclopedia-long catalogue (in tediously tiny type) is still available on line. stokeseeds.com 1-800-396-9338
www.soniaday.com
The Toronto Star and thestar.com, each property of Toronto Star Newspapers Limited, One Yonge Street, 4th Floor, Toronto, ON, M5E 1E6. You can unsubscribe at any time. Please contact us or see our privacy policy for more information.
Our editors found this article on this site using Google and regenerated it for our readers.
