resupposing...

the decision to stop changing my nutrient solution every week has been reconsidered, despite having taken readings which indicated that nutrient levels were adequate. the plant at right is one (and the best-looking one) of three that called it quits during the past week. this particular plant, being the third to die, was showing signs of fading similar to those exhibited by its two predeceased friends. at first, i thought that elevating the crowns slightly might solve the problem - the whole "strawberries hate wet feet thing" - so as soon as i noticed a little wilt, i pulled it up a tick, which obviously didn't help. combine this with the fact that growth the past week has really slowed down; i decided the nutrient levels must be the problem. (a real "DUH" moment actually, considering that having changed the nutrients weekly in the previous season resulted in nothing but explosive growth.)

fortunately, i have a control plant to help me test my reconsidered theory - the lefthand plant pictured below is generally quite healthy but has one stem that's starting to seem like it wants to give up (the one dead center in the photo). iffresh nutrient solution is the right answer, it should still have time to perk back up and tell me i did the right thing.

another fortunately: strawberry plants come in packs of 25. since i originally planted 18 and replaced one, i still had six left, "wintering" in the fridge. i unwrapped three of them just now and replaced those ones whose struggle for life and productivity will live on only in the memories of those people who adored them, however briefly. and not to tempt disaster but i still have three left.

we'll see how the new guys like the party.

s2w2...

i’m addicted to a new activity: trying to see if i can actually watch these things growing. i think i’m almost there. last week, each plant had one healthy, opened, new leaf cluster. six days later, each plant now has at least two, and one plant has four. and all of them are showing new growth on the way. after last week’s post, i pulled the one plant that wasn’t responding and plugged in a new one from the fridge – even that one already has 1½ clusters open. it’s not exactly apples-to-apples, but these leaves are already larger than my year-old alpines’.

there are ten open flowers, which, though it pains me, i’ll snip today. i also see several – at least a dozen throughout the patch – flower buds at the bases of the plants. i hope they’re still in the mood to be this productive when they’re old enough to start having kids.

from my detail-oriented side: a few (maybe two) of the leaves seem to be turning down and browning – albeit almost imperceptibly – on the edges. any thoughts from the e-ether as to why this might happen are of course welcome. caveat: the very first strong leaf cluster to pop up seemed to be doing this, and now isn’t.

and further into the technical: last season i changed my nutrient solution entirely each week, replacing the old, as its level fell, with a new solution fully as nutrient-charged as the last. since last season, i’ve done quite a bit of research and learning, and i know now that while some nutrients will have been removed from the solution and used by the plants, other nutrients have been removed by the plants and stored in their infrastructures, where they’ll lie latent until needed by the plant. rather than besiege the root system with nutrients it may not need by simply changing the solution every time the tank is low, i’m going to monitor its mineral content and try to discover how fast the guys are actually eating. meanwhile, when the solution level is low, i’ll simply add pure water to it. as the weeks go by, i’ll monitor the mineral concentration and once it’s low enough to make me think my guys need more, i’ll replace it. it’s funny, you can’t find recommendations for actual concentrations online – i feel like anyone with anything authoritative to offer on the subject guards that information like a secret recipe (unless you buy their expensive book). so i’ll just figure it out myself, and hope for more trial and less error. as last season’s crop was almost purely vegetal, i never switched to a “blooming” nutrient, which i’ll clearly have to do here. in soil, it’s after about 6 weeks of vegetative growth that the gardener allows the plants to flower freely; in hydroponics it’ll obviously be faster; again, we’ll see.

build-wise, i’m thinking of replacing my light fixture with a DIY, high-wattage CFL system; i think i can get it running for about 30 bucks, and i think it’ll take 20 bucks off my electric bill. and with spring and summer coming (or so we’d like to believe), a CFL system will generate far less heat, which strawberries don’t particularly love. we’ll se where that goes.

in any case, other than reassuring plant growth, there’s not too much excitement. as berries go.

Season Two!

and we start with a bang. here we are at the beginning of season two, and that’s an exciting number in gardening, because the second season is always the best… just ask some hollyhocks. i’ve decided, empirical evidence in hand, that an “all-one-crop” concept will serve me best. so i picked my number one: strawberries.

i love strawberries. which is why i never eat any. they’re never good. sure, there are those few weeks in early summer where, if you get them at a farmer’s market or stand, they’re spectacular; i eat them then. lots. my goal here is to feel like a kid again when i bite into one of them. nyc is lucky enough to have a farmer at the market who has a variety called tristar, which is “day-neutral” (which is to say that its fruiting process isn’t dependent upon length of day, like june strawberries are), and bears fruit from june all the way to first frost. these berries are emphatically flavorful. eating them is one of those all-too-rare food experiences where it’s just so darn good that i can honestly say it tastes as good as it did when i was a kid, and wallow in my own euphoria for a while. like my mom’s tomatoes. or my friend lorraine’s apricots. so if these taste so good, and produce so long, why doesn’t everyone grow them? well… the berries aren’t huge and perfect looking, which means people won’t buy them. really, they’ve done studies about this kind of thing. taste is secondary to appearance when it comes to consumer perception. it used to frustrate me, but since i’m not a farmer (at present), i let it go. now i just think of it as more good strawberries for me.

this is my first time planting ananassa strawberries (i.e. “regular” ones), but last season’s alpine strawberries (which, by the way, are still quite well, in dirt on my bedroom windowsill) will give me the experience i need not to kill them. but what will be different is the size of the plants and the fruit yield. even though my alpines are healthy as can be, you’d need something like 240 plants to make 6 jars of jam. i’m looking forward to harvesting a usable quantity of fruit. the plants will be much bigger, with leaves probably 4-5 times the size of the alpines’, and the overall plants larger as well. but i’m not worried about space. in truth, the garden i built was destined for strawberries. here’s why.

one system of planting strawberries is called the “hill system” (confusingly, since it does not involve hills, or elevation of any kind). in this configuration, plants are situated in clusters of 2 or 3 plants along rows. the rows are kept quite tidy by the gardener, with runners being clipped off as they develop so the whole thing doesn’t turn into a tangled mess. the plant clusters are spaced about 12” or so apart. given that my system’s sites are about 9” apart and that you can grow more densely in hydroponics, that’s certainly fine. vertically speaking, i won’t have to worry about plant leaves getting burned onto the surface of the bulb, like i did with tomatoes and peppers in season one. so, reason one, space. perfect.

the medium i’m using, expanded clay pebbles, is also ideal for strawberries. strawberries don’t like “wet feet,” as everyone says. in this medium, i can nest the crowns into the medium deeply enough so that the plants will be stable, but far enough above the high-tide line that when the system fills, they stay dry. ebb-and-flow, the hydroponic concept i employed in designing this system, seems like an excellent match for strawberries as well, because it allows thorough nutrition for the root zone and a medium supportive enough for the plant.

so i’ve rationalized why it’s perfect for strawberries. usually that’s enough for me; i’m a good rationalizer. but if i were undergoing a period of self doubt (which i’ve experienced maybe twice in my life, for about 5 minutes each time), all i’d have to do is look at the strawberries. they’re happy. really happy.

i ordered a packet of 25 bareroot runners from an online nursery. when i planted them, this past tuesday, they all looked just like you’d expect: a few dead leaves, crispy clipped runners and old stems, and a general dry, brownish condition, like the one pictured here. wednesday night, as soon as i got home from work, i took a peek. imagine my surprise when many of the leaves i had supposed were dead were standing up, and, furthermore, new green was already in evidence on the plants!

now, early on the fifth day, i’ve got completely new leaf clusters, that aren’t just budding out but are open and growing and have clearly-defined edges. and on every plant but one there are even newer leaves that are shooting straight up, saluting me and telling me they’re ready for duty. the one plant that’s “not like the others” is the dead-looking plant pictured above (i didn’t have adequate lighting to snap a shot when i first planted, but that’s what they all looked like, plus some with “dead” leaves). it’s the only one that hasn’t done anything. fortunately, i only planted 18 plants, and have 7 more, wrapped up and in the crisper drawer. i will probably replace this guy today.

as if that all this weren’t convincing or exciting enough, there is a fully opened flower on one plant, with an identifiable berry at the center. it may seem callous, but i’m going to have to snip that little guy off today. i’m going to snip off all the flowers (and runners, if any develop) until the plants are quite large, trusting in the botanical concept that larger leaf area = better photosynthesis = more sugar production = better-tasting fruit. honestly at this rate it shouldn’t take too long anyway. there's another flower about to open on a neighboring plant, which i'll snip when it has a stem.

i can’t wait to see what happens in another week! happy planting season everybody!

Intermission...

Well… as you can see, the garden grew… and grew… and… got too big. Hey, it was an experiment, and I make no apologies, because I learned a lot. I’d say the foremost lesson was about plant type: Lettuce and Alpine Strawberries aren’t great neighbors – strawberries need more potassium when fruiting time comes around, lettuce needs that nitrogen high for producing lush leaves. And you don’t want the tops of your Scotch Bonnets brushing a 430W bulb. Anyway, lesson learned.

I emptied the system, unplugged everything, and waited for inspiration. It was a long winter. Meanwhile, I came up with some new ideas; one could say they’re slightly larger in scope.

How Thyme Flies!

Quite a bit can happen in six weeks it would seem! Since I was last here posting, I happened to see a gardening show that talked about hydroponics. They said roughly this: In soil, 70% of a plant's energy is devoted to root development, so they can not only support the plant structurally but so they can be strong and widespread enough to take up nutrients; the remaning 30% of its energy goes to the plant's exterior. In hydroponics, on the other hand, since nutrients are delivered directly to the roots, only 30% of the plant's energy goes into root development, leaving a luxurious 70% for above-ground growth. I didn't do any independent fact checking on this (sensible) postulation, but I can tell you this: seems like it. Let's start with Week Zero.

On planting day, the seedlings I placed in the system were just a tiny bit bigger than the last time I posted. Here's a picture of the complete system, immediately after planting. If things seem unnaturally yellow, welcome to my world. From left to right, we've got Brandywine Tomatoes, Black-Seeded Simpson Lettuce, Scotch Bonnet Peppers, Arugula, Anise Hyssop, Alpine Strawberries, Zaatar Marjoram, Mâche, and once more, Brandywine Tomatoes. You can clearly see that the pepper plant took the hardest hit; their roots seem to dislike being disturbed, but they recover quickly. The lettuce seems to have suffered, lazing about on its plastic chaise, but the leaves were very soft, so that didn't surprise me. You can just see the arugula, anise hyssop, marjoram, and mâche poking up; you can't see the strawberries (which died 30 minutes after planting: not enough root development to support transplant), and the righthand tomato stands tall and proud. Which it did until the very moment of its death two days later.

Fast forward one week.The lefthand tomato, having died quickly, left only its chopstick post for us to remember it by. The lettuce picked itself up, and the pepper stood right back up. You can see the arugula, anise hyssop, marjoram, and mâche picking up speed, and you might find the barest hint of (the all-new) strawberry. The tomato plant is not, as it would seem, the one that died, but a new one. I've come to several conclusions, one being that this particular variety of tomato is simply too large for this setup. I'm going to leave this one there for a while, as it's still with us, until my new seeds sprout. I'll be replacing it with good old yellow pear cherry tomatoes. The smaller plant will be more practical, and it's liable to produce a lot more fruit for me.

Let's not get wrapped up in suspense. Here's one more week later.

Clearly, this week was a prosperous one. Having found their footing, the three front-row salad greens exploded, with the anise hyssop and marjoram keeping pace. Strawberry and tomatoes are still hanging on. The newcomer at left is a second scotch bonnet plant - the first one in the system will yield longer, pointy yellow peppers; the new one, chocolate colored ones in the compact, traditional shape. The original pepper plant has begun developing leaves at the nodes along the stem, a really cool development this soon after planting.

You can also see from this closeup how close the nodes are together along the stem... this is a good thing. There were a lot of reviews for the bulb I finally decided on, but one thing that was unclear was how it would affect internode length. I'd say it's doing just fine. Here's that same length of stem just one week later:
No, really. Just one week. The whole garden went full speed ahead:
The Snuggie of lettuce blocks the newer pepper plant from view entirely, and the arugula has devloped somewhat tougher leaves than I'd have wanted, but huge and succulent. You've already seen how healthy the pepper plant is, and the anise hyssop now tops it in height. I promise, there is a strawberry plant still in there. The marjoram is still doing quite well, the tomato hanging on, and the mâche is doing just fine.

I did some heavier maintenance this week. I cut most of the lettuce and most of the arugula. The arugula was at least five times more pungent than the strongest I'd ever tasted; it was overwhelmingly peppery if truth be told. One minced leaf could work for a whole salad. The lettuce was a little bitter, as well. Neither of these things surprise me that much. The conditions I've created should be great for peppers and tomatoes and even strawberries and herbs, but for salad greens, which generally need a little cool and a little shade, it's a bit much. The strawberry plant seemed lonely, so I added two more seedlings.

Now it has some company, and so far, so good. The original plant is the one at center. One seedling I added was larger and one slightly smaller.

Here are a couple of the more interesting comparisons, week to week.

This is the second scotch bonnet - the first shot is at planting; i subsequently pruned it and wound up with the second shot just one week later.

I think the most poignant comparison to be made is anise hyssop. To wit: Week Zero:

And Week 3:

I thinned this little crop considerably, uprooting three or four plants, pinching the remaning ones to encourage bushiness, and cutting still other plants. I made a tea from the fresh leaves, and its reputation as a stomachic remains intact. The lovely and delicate anise (not licorice) flavor has a natural sweetness to it, and it'll be hard competition for lemon verbena when I can finally get that planted!

The conclusions I've drawn are numerous. The most important one, I think, is content. I've decided to nix all the salad greens (even if the mâche is buttery, you need like an acre for one bowl of salad; I didn't ever say that everything I do is well thought-out). In their stead, I'll stick to herbs, which only benefit from concentrated flavor like my vegetative plants are developing here, and fruiting plants. I've started seeds for the aforementioned yellow pear tomatoes and also for Mexican Sour Gherkins, which also go by such adorable monikers as "cucamelons" and the like. They do, admittedly, look like doll-sized watermelons. The plants fruit agressively, so I'm looking forward to having bunches of these little guys to make fermented, deli-style dill pickles... only bite-sized! And once I can get a lemon verbena plant (it doesn't really grow from seed), I'll pop that in and start enjoying a nice tisane at least twice a day. It's how I'll live to be 100, I'm sure of it.

I've also requested root materials for Suwanee Strawberries and Black Mitcham Mint from a really nifty little place in Corvalis, Oregon, called the National Clonal Germplasm Repository... if the strawberries are half as much a mouthful as the name of the place, I'll be in business. The Repository "is a genebank that preserves invaluable plant genetic resources of temperate fruit, nut, and agronomic crops." How cool is that!? Check out their website.

Anyone with their arithmetic goggles on will note that that leaves one empty spot. Any suggestions?

For anyone interested in technical operations, I'm using a mix of Botanicare PureBlend Pro Grow (at 15mL/gallon) and Botanicare PureBlend Original Grow (at the same strength), under a 430W Philips Son Agro bulb. The flow cycle is 15 minutes, followed by an ebb of 30 minutes, for the entire duration of the 16-hour photoperiod, with periodic cycles at night. It seems to be working! :-)

Meanwhile: Actual Plants

Amidst all the PVC dust and… let’s say “fragrant” chemicals, the cords, the tubes, the bright, (really... really) bright lights, the paints, the tape and such, it’s easy to forget that the whole point of this little foray is to provide an environment for hopefully vibrantly living plants and, if all goes well, a relatively miniscule amount of food. I just checked in on all my little seedlings that are growing up while I’m building out. Here’s what we’ve got.

First, the peppers. I’m growing three colors of extremely spicy Scotch Bonnet Pepper from seeds I harvested myself. I managed to get my hands on a few true Jamaican specimens – the standard red, an identically-shaped chocolate (think slightly-too-old-eggplant, not Toblerone), and a longer, narrower, and pointy yellow. These are the only seedlings I don’t have pictures of just yet, but the peppers aren’t there yet anyway of course. I planted these in mid-December in dirt, so whichever one I end up planting will have to make the transition. (They’re far enough ahead of the rest of the pack that it should be easy to choose which is healthiest.) I’ll be interested to see if they’re hybrids: will the one presumed to be yellow actually grow up that way, or was it a hybrid which will breed back to a parent’s color, as many hybrids do?

Okay, I lied. I don’t have pictures of Lemon Verbena, either, since I don’t have a plant yet, and it can’t really be grown from seed. More on all that mumbo jumbo later. For now, suffice it to say that I can’t wait to have a dense shrub of this herb infusing my whole garden and possibly house with its fragrance, which smells like angels’ wings. (I know; I asked God if it did and She said yes. It really does.)

Next up, Arugula. I bought hardware-store Arugula seeds and they were the first to germinate and then to sprout right up. I love this salad green; its peppery and almost meaty flavor does equally well in salads and on sandwiches. Here are some close-ups of it just after emerging from its seed, and then, weeks later, of it sending out its first “true” leaves.

On to Mâche (Lamb’s Lettuce/Corn Salad (I don’t know why I hate that last name but I really do)). I got two types of seed for this tiny salad green. One, from an online retailer, is called gros graines, which is French for “large seeds.” The second, whose seeds look the same but smaller, are Burpee seeds I grabbed at Target. The germination rate of the Burpee seeds is significantly higher – the gros graines was just about impossible – but the purported melt-in-your-mouth texture of the bigger seeded guys might be worth trying for.

Next up, Anise Hyssop (Licorice Mint). My boss introduced me to this herb last spring and I’m totally hooked. It’s a really cool heirloom herb, whose flavor is a gentle infusion of mint and anise. (Which I, like so many of you, really thought I hated for the longest time; perhaps we’ll go there sometime in another, baking, forum.) These little guys are also just sending out their true leaves, which already begin to resemble their future selves.

Marjoram seemed like a good idea but your author is sort of persnickety about herbs, so he had to have Zaatar Marjoram, which grows wild in Syria and Israel, and whose flavor is closest to a blend of thyme and oregano. These ridiculously small seeds were tough to germinate, and only a few did. Fortunately, I think that those few are doing well, also sending out baby true leaves.


Another hardware store find was Brandywine Tomato. This 19th-century Amish-bred heirloom variety is meaty and juicy and just the picture of what a tomato should be. Some seedlings already have well-developing leaves, and some are just sending theirs out. This tomato is probably way too big for the system I’ve set up, so their stay in it may be brief; we’ll see how it goes. What I really like about these seedlings is how clearly you can see in them the difference between a plant's "seed" leaves (cotyledons) and its true leaves.

Lettuce had to make it in, of course. I chose an old standby, Black-Seeded Simpson. Waiting for a whole head to grow and then chopping it off seemed inappropriate for my little setup, but I’ll hopefully be able to take leaves at need from this leaf lettuce variety.

Like any pastry person would, I saved the best for last. Alpine Strawberries should wind up a gem in this collection. I chose them for their intense flavor (and as an added bonus, they won’t send runners out into my other containers). Granted, one plant won’t yield a lot, but those few berries it does bear will be insanely good. As long as I can end up with one four-ounce jar of jam, I’ll be happy. (Possibly so happy that I lose some other plants and plant more of these… we’ll see how it goes.) They were tricky to germinate but not difficult. It was a matter of finding a cool but decently-lit area – they like light for germinating but also 55-65°. So, I gave it to them, and, weeks before expected, they sprouted right up. Now, several of the 30 or so seedlings that have come up are sending out true leaves. Perhaps the truest leaves of any so far; easily the most defined.

Stay tuned for more technical junk and pictures of technical junk, and maybe some pictures of plant junk as it becomes available and interesting!

System Build

Okay, let’s talk about everything I had to buy or otherwise acquire to get this system built.

Step 1: Hardware
Goal: Acquire all the pieces for the physical system, including a way to pump solution into it

9 containers
1 ten-foot piece of pipe, 1-inch SCH-40 PVC
1 PVC cutter
8 1x1x1 tee fittings, 1-inch SCH-40 PVC
4 1x1 90° elbow fitting, 1-inch SCH-40 PVC
2 1x1x1 side outlet 90s, 1-inch SCH-40 PVC
1 1x1x0.5 reducing tee, 1-inch SCH-40 PVC
1 0.5x0.5 spigot barbed adapter, 1-inch SCH-40 PVC
1 5’ flexible PVC pipe, 1-inch SCH-40 PVC
Various other PVC fittings used for attaching my containers, which will vary with any setup depending on the containers themselves and the specifics of the system
PVC cement
Black Krylon Fusion (for plastics) spray paint
Matte brown spray paint
Aquarium sealant
Stainless steel faucet screens
15’ one-half inch aquarium tubing (it’s cheap so I got extra)
Submersible water pump
Solution tank (opaque, lidded plastic storage bin)
Equipment I had on hand included a variable-speed Dremel tool with an aluminum oxide grinding bit, a drill, a drop cloth, a fan for extra ventilation near the workspace, latex gloves, a piece of scrap wood, and lots of masking tape.

First, I prepared the containers by drilling a ¼” hole in the bottom of each, with masking on both sides, and with the bottom of the container up against the piece of scrap wood. Trying to drill with the container upside down would be folly; plastic cracks very easily when drilling. I’d recommend going slowly, and getting an extra container or two just in case. I was glad that I did! Using the Dremel and grinding bit, I carefully widened each hole to accommodate the fittings I’d decided to use to support the containers and supply nutrient solution to them. Finally, after thoroughly washing and drying the containers, I masked a ½” strip along the side of each, so after they were painted I’d still be able to monitor root systems and solution levels. I also placed a small piece of masking tape over the bottom hole, on the inside, to prevent spray paint from entering the container.

I cut all the PVC to the specifics of the system I’d designed. Before gluing, I laid them out end-to-end on my table, giving me a chance to make sure they’d fit, as well as to ensure I had everything I needed.

I then glued them all together. (Research this process well before you attempt it; PVC cement sets within seconds and once it’s set, it’s really freakin set.) With eight tees facing up – seven for containers and one for overflow – and the two side outlet 90s facing up, I had spots for 9 containers. I had cut the overflow pipe to match the top of the growing medium I’d have in my containers. I attached an elbow to this pipe, then another short pipe length, another elbow pointing downward, and, finally, the flexible PVC that would take used solution back to the container. The spigot barbed adapter, which would be used for intake, was pointing horizontally out one side (well… almost horizontally! I’m telling you this glue sets quickly!).

I painted the system black, so it would look sleeker, being sure to close off any openings with masking tape so no paint could get inside. To ensure opacity of the containers, which is necessary for roots, I primed those with the black Fusion paint and then gave each two coats of the matte brown (which was actually a primer, but served the purpose and gave the containers a terracotta look as an added bonus).

I then attached the containers to the system, with their male-threaded fittings coming up through the bottom and the matching female fittings anchoring them down. I sealed these connections with aquarium sealant (three coats) to ensure there’d be no leakage. I had some neoprene washers that I’d been planning to use to help ensure a watertight seal, but, in the end, decided that this would be overkill with the PVC cement lining the threaded connection and aquarium sealant around it. (In retrospect this may not have been overkill, since the threaded PVC connection is not flush; the glue set before I could twist them all the way down.) I pressed the small circular faucet screens down into each connector so the clay pebble medium I’ll be using wouldn’t drop in. They fit perfectly, and as of this writing I’m hoping that they won’t be under so much pressure that they’ll push through. We’ll see.

After allowing the aquarium sealant to cure for the recommended time, I tested the system in the bathroom using the sink for intake and the tub for overflow. It took about 4:30 for the system to completely fill (to within ½” of the top!) and about 3:30 for it to drain. This is with the entire 15-foot length of tubing, with the system not too elevated over the pump, with the overflow tube flowing on a curve, and with no growing medium taking up much of the space in each container, so both times will probably be slightly faster in the end. Two minor leaks on the aquarium sealant need correction but other than that it looks like I’m in business! When the system is set up, the pump will be submerged in the tank and the overflow pipe will drop solution back into it, from a level above the top of the solution to help oxygenate it.

Here's the finished system!

This step was fairly inexpensive to accomplish, but complicated from a technical point of view. The next step I’ll detail, setting up the growing environment, will be far simpler in terms of engineering, but will involve the most expensive elements.

Building my Hydroponic Garden

I decided one day that I’d like to go ahead and throw together a little bookshelf hydroponic garden in my guestroom. I’m more than a little left-brained, so I felt confident that I could build a solid system, and figured, Hey, what’s a little PVC? Well, as I went through the processes of designing the system and learning about hydroponics and plant propagation, I realized that I had stepped into a slightly deeper pool than I’d originally realized. I wanted this system to do well – not only as a hobby micro-farm but as a food source (albeit a minimalist one). In order to do it well, I quickly realized that my vision of a 12-dollar fluorescent shop light fixture and a little tub of water with some fertilizer in it were not going to cut the mustard. This little journal is as much for my organizational purposes as for anything, but it’s probably worth reading if you fancy building your own hydro system and think that it’s going to be a simple affair. I think it’ll be worth it, in the end, but the process has involved a lot (a lot) of organizing, thinking, planning, sketching, reading, purchasing, building, and patience.

There are many formats for setting up a hydroponic system, the main two categories being passive and active. I decided to build an ebb-and-flow, or flood-and-drain system – an active system wherein the nutrient solution recirculates, and which, with due attention to growing conditions and an intelligent setup by design, wouldn’t require hours a day for maintenance and monitoring. I built my ebb-and-flow system from PVC, with the idea in mind that the containers would be attached to the top of the manifold, so the nutrient solution could enter from the bottom of each, and then drain back out. In addition to providing regular doses of nutrient every time the pump was on, and then regular doses of oxygen every time it turned off, the water will push oxygen-poor air up out of the medium as the containers fill, and pull oxygen-rich air down in as they empty.

Originally I had intended to use 2L soda bottles as containers, with the tops pointing down and screwed into the system, and the bottoms cut off; a setup similar to several I’d seen online. However, in order to glue the bottle caps directly into the pipe, I’d have needed to use 1-inch SDR-26 pipe, which is pretty impossible to find. For that reason (in addition to the fact that cut-off soda bottles would always have been unattractive to me and are generally flimsy), I decided to figure out a design using 1-inch SCH-40 PVC, which is far more widely available. The only thing that remained to figure out was what to use as containers. I toyed briefly with the idea of using regular terracotta pots, but I was admittedly nervous that with constant exposure to water, they’d deteriorate and eventually disintegrate. Plastic seemed to be the way to go (and I’m not a plastics fan, but once you’ve built a manifold of PVC, why fight it?). After much completely fruitless shopping around at hardwares, home superstores, and even The Container Store, I ended up at my local 99-cent (“and up”) store, where I found some food-storage containers that fit the bill exactly, for $1.29 apiece. I was about to toss the lids into the recycling bin, but then I realized two additional purposes they could serve. First, since they’re somewhat translucent, I can fit them atop the containers when I’ve planted tender seedlings. Second, and perhaps more excitingly, I could conceivably convert this hydroponic system to an aeroponic system, with a little additional engineering; essentially by removing the medium, drilling large holes in the lids to seat net pots, changing out the water pump for an air pump, and filling the solution tank with nutrient-laden fog instead of liquid solution. Just a thought.

On my next post, I’ll go into how I built this system. Hope you enjoy!