Thursday, March 26, 2009

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! :-)