Indoor Seed Starting Set-Up Extraordinaire

I save many of our vegetable seeds year to year, but give in to flower seed splurges.

Every year our indoor seed starting ritual seems to get just a little more elaborate. Years ago we planted a few seeds in egg cartons. Then we planted trays of seeds in repurposed tp tubes. Then we bought grow lights and warming mats. And this spring my husband built me a substantial seed starting set-up that will last for many decades.

It measures four-and-a-half feet tall, four feet wide, and nearly nine feet long. The whole contraption comes apart for easy storage.

The “roof” can be raised to move the grow lights up as plants get taller and the sides of the roof can be held open with hooks suspended from the ceiling to tend seedlings.

For a few weeks each spring, our basement eco-system is a fertile place indeed.

 

Cautionary reminder: I heard from many readers who had major difficulty or total failure starting seeds using NK products and Jiffy products including “peat” pots, soil mix, and dehydrated soil disks. (Jiffy has been bought out by NK.) Here’s more on this.

 

Posted in seed starting, seeds | 2 Comments

Seeds from Cyprus = Heavenly Squash

 

a

Our friend Chris is from Cyprus. There’s a sorrowful story behind why his family left their beautiful Eastern Mediterranean island when he was a child. But they keep fond reminders of their homeland alive in the food they cook, including a unique winter squash they eat prepared with garlic, olive oil, and lemon juice.

A few years ago I was honored when Chris shared some of those squash seeds with us.

I started the seeds indoors, set them out when it was warm, and with little attention they grew into vigorous plants, blossoming  with zeal.

We ended up with squash in several gardens.

We ended up with squash in several gardens.

All summer long we picked immature squash and used them in dishes meant for summer squash. They were tender and delicious. They continued to grow past the first few frosts. The leaves were so large that it was hard to see the squash lurking below, looming like Cucurbitaceae whales. This explains why some of them grew to outlandish proportions.

Squash so huge a wheelbarrow is necessary to move them. Thankfully there's a two-year-old conductor on board.

Squash so huge a wheelbarrow is necessary to transport. Thankfully there’s a conductor on board.

Even at such ridiculous sizes, the squash is somehow still tender and flavorful. And it’s amazingly hardy — perfect to store and use throughout the winter. I use every single part of the fruit, scooping out the guts and cutting away peels for livestock to eat. (Goats and cows can eat them raw. Chickens are more likely to eat cooked root vegetables. — Yes, I cook for chickens.)

Every spring since Chris shared the seeds, I’ve started the plants in March and every winter I’ve gratefully used up our storehouse of squash by the next spring. The seeds he shared and the harvest that results reminds me how every generation has kept their families alive, relying on nutrients locked into forms that can be unlocked months later when nothing grows outside. In the tradition of immigrants who arrived on our shores with seeds sewn in their hems, I’ve done my best to pass along a few seeds when I can, letting friends know these Cypriot squash seeds have a story.

When I went through my seeds this week to plant under grow lights, I discovered my precious stock of Cypriot squash seeds, despite my careful preparation, appear to be moldy. I cut open one of the last few squash I have stored to use in cooking, hoping the seeds were still viable. The seeds were no longer plump and full, clearly depleted of life force. Disaster!

That same day, my dear friend Christie said she was starting some of the Cypriot squash seeds I’d given her. Of course when she heard my seeds were no longer good she said she had enough to share. Disaster averted! And another of the many good reason to share seeds —- you may need some back.

I’m deeply relieved that Chris’ family squash seeds will grow here again. And this fall I’ll dry the seeds more carefully in our dehydrator and store them in the refrigerator, hoping to keep that legacy alive, hoping to be worthy of the memory embedded in those seeds.

~~~

In the spirit of sharing, here are three of my favorite winter squash recipes. They are perfect for Cypriot as well as other winter squashes like butternut, acorn, kabocha, and delicata.

(I had photos of each recipe, but would you believe I’ve got so many pictures of kids and livestock that my phone memory threw a tantrum? I had to delete an entire file just to appease it.)

 

Roasted Winter Squash

This is more an open format plan than an actual recipe. Start with a normal, non-monster-sized winter squash. Peel, remove seeds, and cut the flesh into consistent chunks — one or two inch cubes are good. Toss them with a good glug of olive oil. Preheat oven to 400 degrees, flop the squash in a jellyroll pan, then consider your options. (Overall, it should take 30 to 40 minutes to roast. Remember to scoot the pieces around in the pan a few times.)

~You can roast plain squash, it’s quite a friendly dish. Simply sprinkle with about 2 teaspoons salt and add others seasonings as you choose.

~You can make a somewhat sweet version, good for breakfast or a light supper. About ten to fifteen minutes before it’s done, toss in some raw nuts to roast with the squash if you want some crunch. If you want to add seeds, toss them in the last five minutes or so. In the last few minutes of roasting time you can add apple chunks, pears, or other fruit if you like. Eat as is, or serve it with maple syrup, cream, or a side of cool applesauce.

~Roast it with plenty of halved garlic cloves and add other vegetables of your choice. Brussels sprouts work well here, so do rutabagas, cauliflower, onions, pretty much up to you. If you add more vegetables, little more olive oil helps the process along. Watch the garlic to make sure it doesn’t burn.

 

Curried Squash Soup

This is a lovely creamy soup. Don’t worry about chopping the vegetables perfectly, you’ll be blending everything except whatever ingredients you add as options at the end.

Ingredients

  • one winter squash, baked until tender with skin and seeds removed (I bake them on a parchment-covered jellyroll pan at 350 for about 60 to 90 minutes. Stab them in the neck to see if they’re tender. You can add horror movie sound effects if you like.)
  • olive oil or coconut oil, a few tablespoons
  • 2 medium onions, chopped
  • 2 or 3 cloves garlic, chopped
  • 2 stalks celery, chopped
  • 1 fresh jalapeno, chopped (or a dash of crushed red pepper)
  • 1 inch fresh ginger, chopped (or a pinch of dry ginger)
  • a handful or two of Brazil nuts or other unsalted nuts (walnuts or almonds work well)*
  • 2 cups milk, cream, or unsweetened alternate milk like soy or almond
  • 2 cups chicken or vegetable stock, may need less
  • 2 teaspoons curry powder
  • salt and pepper, to taste
  • optional add-in vegetables– pick only one or two: a handful of peas is classic, for some reason a handful of frozen corn works well, it’s amazing how many others work beautifully such as chopped greens like spinach or arugula, some cauliflower florets, some roasted eggplant, minced sun-dried tomatoes, you might want to raid your fridge and try different bowls of soup with different add-ins

Method

Saute onions and celery until soft, add garlic and jalapeno and continue sauteing until tender. Put these in the blender with ginger, nuts (if you choose to use them), and milk. Blend until smooth. Add squash. You may need to do this in two or more batches. Return to pan. Add curry powder, salt, and pepper. Stir in as much stock as you choose to make a smooth, flavorful soup. Now mix in whatever optional add-in vegetables you’ve chosen. Heat thoroughly, until those veggies are cooked through.

To serve, you can sprinkle with roasted pumpkin seeds or fresh chopped parsley.

*If you don’t have a powerful blender like a Vitamix, a teaspoon or so of unsweetened creamy almond butter is a good substitute for nuts. Or skip the nuts entirely. 

 

 

Butternut & Beans in Creamy Tahini 

This is loosely based on a recipe by Molly Wizenberg, memoir writer and chef who blogs at Orangette. Preparation can be speeded up, depending on how you prefer to roast garlic and caramelize onions. I brought this to a gathering of friends recently along with a friendly little loaf of bread. There are usually leftovers I can offer the host but this time every bit of the dish had been gobbled up!

Ingredients

  • 1 butternut or other winter squash, about 3 pounds before cooking
  • 5 cloves garlic
  • 1 large onion, chopped
  • 4 tablespoons olive oil or coconut oil, divided use
  • one 15 ounce can chickpeas, navy beans, or other firm white beans drained and rinsed (1 1/2 cups cooked beans)
  • 1 to 2 teaspoons salt
  • 1/4 cup lemon juice
  • 3 tablespoons tahini
  • 1/4 of water or stock, more as needed
  • pepper (Aleppo pepper is fantastic here)
  • 1/4 cup fresh parsley, chopped

 

Method

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Peel and seed squash, cut into 1 or 2 inch cubes. For the fast method you simply toss the squash with the oil, garlic, and onions, roasting it all together on a jellyroll pan for 25 to 35 minutes, moving pieces around occasionally and scooping out garlic that’s in danger of burning. The squash and onions should have some nicely brown sides and smell heavenly.

OR, if you’re fussy like me, you can roast the squash on its own. I tuck the garlic into a little foil-lined ramekins with a bit of oil, close up the foil packet, and stick it in the oven along with the squash as it cooks. It’s far creamier and has a smoother taste as well. Then I toss the onions in a pan on the stove with some of the oil and caramelize on low heat for 20 minutes or so, which takes very little attention. You have another pan to wash but I’m partial to the taste of onions prepared this way.

Anyway, back to the recipe. Into your blender container put the cooked garlic, lemon juice, tahini, sea salt, and some stock or water. Blend. If the blender balks, add more stock. Throw in pepper. Taste. It should be marvelous. If not, add more seasoning.

Mix with the roasted squash and caramelized onions. Stir in beans. Warm through. Top with chopped parsley.

Posted in entree recipe, seed saving | Tagged , , , , , | 2 Comments

Laws of Morals as of Botany: Emerson

“I have confidence in the laws of morals as of botany. I have planted maize in my field every June for seventeen years and I never knew it come up strychnine. My parsley, beet, turnip, carrot, buck-thorn, chestnut, acorn, are as sure. I believe that justice produces justice, and injustice injustice.”

from Ralph Waldo Emerson’s 1852 journal entry

 

Posted in quotes | Tagged , | 2 Comments

Pipeline Protest

anti-pipeline poem,

Pipeline Protest 

 

Its name is Nexus,

from the Latin

meaning to bind, fasten, tie.

The pipeline, nearly as wide

as a kindergartener is tall,

will cut through

dairy farms and backyards,

hurtling high-pressure

danger for profit. Always profit.

 

Maybe it’s another wake-up call,

like the one Bush offered

by invading a sovereign nation;

brutalizing the Iraqi people

we claimed to be saving.

Brutalizing ourselves.

 

Of course we keep hitting

the snooze button.

Waking up isn’t easy.

Birds flounder

in oily waters

and we’re desperate

to sleep a little longer.

 

Today you and I stand

amidst hand-lettered signs:

Windmills Not Oil Spills,

Eminent Domain=Greed,

Fuck Fracking.

Cold wind brings tears to our eyes.

 

Fear brings us here. Anger too.

And bone-deep grief

for this lovely lovely planet.

Awakening shows us a million ways

to climb past despair.

I want us to do it for love.

 

Laura Grace Weldon

 

Originally published in the Blue Collar Review. Find more poetry in my collection, Tending. 

 

  • Here’s more about the Nexus pipeline including the route and blast radius in Ohio.
  • Here’s an article I wrote about how fracking might affect my family, and yours.  (First published on Wired.com.)
  • Here’s a glimpse at just how shady the oil and gas industry can be. More than 100 letters sent to the Federal Energy Regulatory Agency (FERC) in support of the pipeline are fakes, using names and addresses of Medina County residents who did not write them or sign them. A FERC project manager said the falsified letters would remain on the docket.
  • Here’s recent disheartening news. An appeals court, using a 65 year old Ohio law meant to facilitate the construction of utility infrastructure after World War II,  has ruled against the rights of property owners. This means pipeline surveyors are free to intrude on the yards and farms of 65 landowners who have actively objected. Yesterday armed security guards stood by as surveyors took measurements on a horse farm just south of the fairgrounds, a farm that’s bordered on three sides by wetlands and park property. As resident Paul Gierosky said in a recent article, “NEXUS is no more a utility than I’m an astronaut. This pipeline is not a public agency designed to service the people along its route. It’s a for-profit company that’s going to sell the gas to a foreign country.”
Posted in sustainability | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Saving A Desperate Creature

in which I try to rescue a desperate creature

Early mornings are dark and quiet in November. I put on my boots, coat, and hat to walk out with a bucket of kitchen scraps in hand. I pause to appreciate mist rising from the pond and autumn’s complex scents. Some mornings I chat quietly with birds and trees as I head back to the barn. Other mornings I sing.

This particular morning I’m wearing a heavier coat against the cold, an orange hat in deference to hunting season, and carrying a bigger pail than usual. As I walk I notice a muted squeaking sound. Immediately, I imagine it coming from some small creature. I picture its dark desperate eyes. Maybe it is trapped or injured.

I slow and the squeaks become harder to hear.

I stop. The squeaks stop too.

Poor wary little thing, I must be close.

I walk slowly toward tall grasses lining the creek. A few desperate squeaks can be heard. I pause, hoping intuition might tell me where this little animal is hiding. There’s probably nothing I can do, but if it’s trapped I can free it. If it’s injured I might be able to move it to a place safer than the side of a flood-prone creek.

I stand still, listening.

Nothing.

Okay, I say to myself. It’s your imagination.

I head back toward the barn.

The squeaking starts up again, rhythmic and desperate.

Logic is late to this adventure, but it finally clicks in. I’m carrying a large bucket, one we left out on the cold porch overnight. The squeaking noise I hear is the handle rubbing against the sides. I stop to confirm. The squeaking stops. I feel silly. I also feel, against all reason, enormously relieved for the creature I’d imagined in distress.

I take a deep breath and continue on toward the barn, ever more grateful for the peace of the day.

I hope your morning is less emotionally fraught.

Posted in humor | Tagged , , | 6 Comments

Outing Oneself

liberal in conservative Ohio

I live in a rural Ohio township in a county that’s resoundingly conservative. The last few months it has bristled with Trump signs. Some of them are huge. Some handmade. Many farms and businesses have sported dozens of signs that haven’t yet come down. I acknowledge their passion, although it’s beyond my comprehension.

When we first moved here I was told to avoid putting up Halloween decorations, since that would mark me as on the side of Satan. When I displayed homemade yard art, our postal carrier asked if we were devil worshipers. Just admitting we weren’t the correct brand of born again Christian resulted in a de facto death threat.

Still, we’ve stayed. Heck yeah. We planted fruit and nut trees, along with raspberries, asparagus, and other perennials. We built barns and fenced pastures. We intend to live here until we’re so damn old that we can’t feed livestock or can our harvest or take a daily walk. If nothing else, we’re resilient.

Years ago I visited Portland Maine to see a friend. It was a delicious shock to my keep-your-opinions-quiet life. From bumper stickers to storefronts it seemed everyone was wildly progressive. I’d avoided broadcasting my planet-friendly politics, beyond-denomination spiritual beliefs, and sustainable lifestyle, only to realize there were actually places where such things were de rigueur. There are all sorts of closets.

I find hope wherever I can, especially in a house I pass each week on my trip to the library, where signs for polar opposite sports teams and political parties are posted on the same lawn, in front of the same house, where the same couple presumably shares the same couch, toilet, and bed. If they can do it successfully, so can a nation.

The only place I feel free to be myself out loud, politically and otherwise beyond my own small circle of family and friends, is on social media. When I post on my natural learning page I steer well clear of potentially inflammatory opinions out of respect for other people’s beliefs, but when I post on my own Twitter and FB pages I share ideas and reflections that are interesting to me. Mostly it’s hopeful but the last few days my posts have been raw, fearful, and unsure —- the way humans beings can be in times of flux.

Such posts may have cost me one of my dearest friends, someone my family and I love.

Since the election I’ve felt battered and bruised, barely able to pull up my optimism pants. And I am saddened beyond words that being who I am may mean losing people I love. I hope that’s not what coming out means. If this is what it’s like, even for a political stance, I can’t imagine what it feels like to come out when the issue is much larger and much more personal.

This is what I’m hanging on to — that spring always comes no matter how cold the winter.

a

Posted in honesty | Tagged , | 15 Comments

There’s Something About Stacking Stones

I’ve always loved stones. Not gemstones; I’m not a swayed-by-shiny-baubles sort of girl. I mean the wonderfully rough-shouldered stones found heaving up in the garden, pasture, and woods. I’m drawn to their geologically long view of things. Their solid gray patience with scurrying life forms. And their reassuringly substantial form in a world preoccupied with ephemeral concepts like wealth and fame.

Maybe that’s why I’ve got a thing for stacking them.

It’s intriguing to pivot one stone on another, finding the spot where they rest in pleasing balance. Then to place another stone on top, then another, and another. I need to be careful. I don’t want stones to drop on my loved ones or my dogs or any other innocent being happening by. What’s interesting is that they don’t. Sometimes stacked stones slump sideways a bit, almost as if establishing a balance they find more pleasing. Or maybe the Earth’s rotation is felt more honestly by stones as they lean in accord with the great whirling Mother stone.

The stack on the left is leaning off in its own direction.

A few seasons ago, what looked like a stone forehead emerged from the grass. Every time the tractor passed over it the mower blades shrieked. So my guys got out a shovel, crowbar, and wheelbarrow to fully liberate it from the earth it was trying to exit. Now it’s above ground again, nestled with companion rocks by our garage door, safe from the mower. Being a stone, it’ll sink back into the ground eventually, waiting for Earth’s tides to heave it back up again.

Here’s that stone, waiting for a taller and more artful stack.

Actually, quite a few of my stone stacks have rocks piled nearby, waiting until I’m hit by stacking inspiration.  Like this one,

and this one.

These are sister stacks, seen from the side,

a

My current favorite is this gravity-defying stack.

a

I even stack stones indoors, although I’ve kept myself to one spot, the little dresser that served as our Waldorf-y nature table for years. (By the time my kids were teens that mostly meant animal skulls, fossils, and strangely shaped sticks.) These are three of the seven stone stacks there. Now, seeing this picture, I realize the one on the left has lost the pyramid-shaped stone that used to perch there. I’m off to search for it!

” The observer, when he seems to himself to be observing a stone, is really, if physics is to be believed, observing the effects of the stone upon himself.”  ~ Bertrand Russell

Posted in stones | Tagged , , , , | 3 Comments