our homestead: early autumn seed saving



Ghosty and her porch pumpkin.

October is my favorite month. Like the fleeting beauty of the blossoming of the spring cherry trees, I view this month as the golden month before the dark winter. The leaves are all turning my favorite colors: crimson, orange, plum and mustard and are dazzling both on the tree or tumbling through the wind. The fields down the hill from my home are full of big, fat pumpkins and mazes of maize (corn). And all of my favorite flowers around the yard are producing seeds for next year's garden.

 I've been collecting a variety of seeds and laying them out to dry on a rack near a basement window. Once dry, I'll roll the seeds up in paper or fill paper envelopes with them, then I'll store the seeds in an air-tight container in a dark room, such as the basement pantry. By next spring, the seeds will be ready for planting, and acclimated to my area's specific weather and soil conditions. I also plan to gift some seeds to gardening friends like I did last Christmas. It made me happy to see plants growing in my loved ones' gardens which originated from seeds I'd taken the time to save the previous growing season.

 So far, I've saved seeds from those strange chocolate and pink tomatoes I grew, the ample nasturtiums which covered my retaining wall this year,  fragrant red, white and blue sweet pea flowers, teddybear and strawberry blonde sunflowers from the vegetable garden and Bienenfreund seeds: an awesome heirloom flower I purchased from Uprising Seeds which lived up to its German name (Bee's Friend) as its whiskery violet flowers were swarmed by bees this summer.  

 

1. Nasturtium seeds
2. Sweet Pea pods
3. Bienenfreund seeds
4. Sunflower seeds

I've already dried ample amounts of sunflower petals to color up winter teas; I love seeing the bright yellow of a dried sunflower petal come back to life once steeped in hot water. I had a basketful of loose sunflower petals after harvesting seeds, so instead of drying more petals, I decided to have a little fun and throw them up in the air to try and catch a photo of the petals raining down.

our homestead: snow and seedlings

Snow on the slough

 It was sunny with blue skies today. Quite a stark difference from the wintery weather we had this past week. We had buckets of snow cloak the whole area...up to 6 or 7 inches at my house and nearly a foot or more at my mom's. My cousin from Spokane is in town right now as well, so she's been my partner in crime these past few days as we've been trying to evade getting cabin fever. I heard they received a few feet of snow on her side of the mountains too. I spent my snowed-in days by walking along the river with my dogs (this was Banjo's first snow), concocting far too chocolatey hot cocoa on my stove, stealthily sledding down my neighbor's hill at night and rolling up giant snowmen with my cousin and watching a marathon of movies while feasting on crockpot stews. 

Even with snow on the ground, I've also been busy taking care of baby tomato seedlings! Yes! I have tomatoes once again growing on my windowsills, except this year I've invested in heating mats to speed up their germination (ooh lala!) and am growing them in some fancy-schmancy certified organic potting soil. These seedlings originate from the very same seeds I saved from the tomatoes I grew last year: heirloom pink brandywine and evergreen. I'm nerdily ecstatic that they are actually growing as funny as that sounds...although that's usually the same reaction I have every time something I plant in the ground starts peeking up out of the soil with its green little nose. Never gets old for me. I'm awaiting some 'cherry fall' trailing tomato seeds to arrive in my mailbox. I'm going to experiment and  try to make some hanging baskets this year with them.

My cousin visiting Mercedes at my mom's house

My cousin's snow man...check out that mustache

Banjo and Oswald playing in the snow

An apple tree peeking over the levy

Baby tomatoes

our homestead: preparing my painted mountain corn for meal and seed

I spent a good portion of the morning shucking and stripping the colorful kernels from a bunch of dried ears of 'painted mountain' corn I grew this summer. To strip the ears, I used a few different methods. I picked kernel by kernel off with my hands, ran a butter knife down the center of each kernel row to loosen them, and twisted my palm around a few ears to dislodge the kernels. Eventually, I ended up with a big bowl of loose kernels in hues of indigo, periwinkle, gold, pearly white, garnet and crimson reds, blush pink, warm black, mandarin orange and more. I set aside the black kernels and the pastel-colored kernels to plant for next year. I also hand selected a few fun color blends to gift to gardening friends this Christmas, such as a "Sunrise Blend" (reds, oranges and pinks), a "Norge Blend" (red, white and blue) and a "Blueberry Blend" (blacks and blues). I then packaged these blends in brown paper envelopes with their planting instructions.

Painted Mountain corn is very special because it is an older, hardier native corn with its own gene pool (meaning it's not a mass produced hybrid or GMO corn). This corn comes in a multitude of colors, hence its name, and I've read that these rich colors have high antioxidant values. This variety of corn is good for fresh eating (although it has a different texture than sweet corn), for making hominy or for grinding into flour or meal. I plan to grind the leftover kernels (the ones I'm not gifting or using for seed) into cornmeal later today. I don't have grain grinder yet, so I'll be experimenting with my food processor and coffee grinder to see what I can produce.

Oh, and I thought I'd post a recent photo of Banjo. He was napping under the table on his blankey the whole time I was seeding my corn. He's about 3 times as big as when we brought him home.

DIY almanac: saving tomato seeds for later planting

My husband and I have been harvesting tomatoes left and right and have been enjoying tomato inspired meals everyday- tortilla soup with big chunks of tomato, open-faced grilled cheese sandwiches with green tomato slices, little slider burgers stuffed with shredded purple carrot and onions with giant slabs of brandywine tomatoes and beet greens, classic basil and mozzerella caprese salads, scrambled tomatoes and farm fresh eggs...I might have to make tomatoes stuffed and baked with bacon, chopped onions and bread crumbs tonight. Oh baby!

Anyway, if they don't just get tossed into the cook pot, I've been trying to save as many of my tomato seeds as possible from the really nice tomatoes I harvest (any big, colorful "perfect-looking" tomatoes or tomatoes with cool features). That way, next February, I can start tomatoes from my own homegrown seeds. Saving these seeds should produce hardier plants next year and the year after since the parent plants had to acclimate to Western Washington weather conditions. My original seed packets came from California, so I'll be creating my own Washington genetic version, which should increase my yield for years to come.

This is really a big part of heirloom creation. For example, I've been saving seeds from my really, really big pink brandywine tomatoes. Next year, when I grow these plants, most of their offspring should exhibit this size, and I'll select, again for the biggest brandywines for seed storage, perpetuating this giant trait. I haven't researched tomato cross-pollination too much this year, though my tomato plants did get a little mixed up in the greenhouse, so I do have a few tomatoes that look as though they are mixed between pink brandywine and evegreen. I'll probably save some of their seeds, though since they are more of a hybrid, I'm not sure what I'll get next year with them, but that adds to the fun and the mystery. One of my goals is to create a few of my own heirlooms to pass on to the next generations of my family.

There are a few different routes one can go down in regards to the tomato seed saving process. The biggest concern for tomato seed saving is removing the enzyme that coats the outside of the seeds (the goo around the seeds). This enzyme actually prevents the seeds from germinating within the fruit, and traditionally the enzyme is removed via fermentation. The seedy goop of a tomato is scooped out and dropped in a glass and then filled with water. Usually plastic wrap is placed over the glass and the glass sits in a warm place for a few days, until the goop rotts off of the seeds. Then, when mold starts to appear, the seeds are rinsed through a fine mesh sieve and then laid out to dry.

I usually follow some of these steps, though I'm a little too impatient to wait a few days and allow something to rott on my window. My method involves most of the same steps. I'll take the goop out of my tomato and then rinse the seeds as much as I can using a fine mesh sieve, then I'll let the seeds sit in a glass of water for 24 hours. The seeds that sink are the most viable seeds, whereas the floaters are immature seeds, so I'll skim off the floaters after my 24 hour period. Then, I'll pour the seeds into my sieve once more and rinse and scrub them with a little baking soda or natural dish soap and a small brush. Usually I can buff away the remaining enzyme. I'll then set my seeds out on a piece of brown paper and let them air dry. When they're ready, they'll go into small, labeled glass jars and will be hidden away in a cool, dark cabinet for starting next winter.

our homestead: sunflower season

Sunflowers and Indian Paintbrush are my most beloved flowers, and both appear in late summer; sunflowers in my yard and paintbrush on my favorite hiking routes in the mountains. I've tried to grow Indian Paintbrush in my yard but I think they really need a good alpine environment...at least for me. This year I grew Russian Mammoth Sunflowers (their heads were as big as dinner plates!), some red sunflowers and some of the classic yellow sunflowers with heads about the size of salad plates. The majority of my sunflowers grew at least 5 feet tall, some were even taller than me, and I'll admit I've spent a few summer evenings just standing underneath my sunflowers, admiring these gentle giants. I have my sunflowers standing tall in my back vegetable garden, attracting pollinators, and in my front yard, greeting any visitors that come a'calling.

I have three different life stages of sunflowers at this point. Some have already gone to seed and are ready for harvest. I hate having to cut down my sunflowers since they still look pretty, even when they lose their petals, so I have a few standing out in the field (their seeds will still be able to dry) and a few drying on my front porch where I can keep them relatively safe from birds. I'll probably move them all to my shed soon and hang them from the rafters to dry, and then I'll be able to collect the seeds for eating or for storing for next spring for a larger sunflower crop. I've been taking the spent petals of my seeded sunflower heads and have been drying them for tea, so later, in winter I'll be able to remember my garden. I also have plenty of sunflowers that are still in bloom, and about 5 sunflowers yet to bloom, so I should have some of their color for the next few weeks. With all of the seeds I'll be able to harvest this year, I'm looking forward to next summer. I hope I'll be able to plant a colossal sunflower patch!