Invasion of the Bean Sprouts

 Once upon a time, in my rocky twenties, I guess I told my husband that I reject instruction. "Follow directions? Directions are for unimaginative weaklings!" He reminds me of this whenever there's a particularly creative cooking mishap, knitting debacle, or undecipherable craft monster blanketing the apartment. When I declared to Todd our plans for a vegetable garden both eyebrows crept up his forehead, eyelids squinted, and his smile slimmed to a grin. "Really," he said, as if I were our 3-year-old son promising that he only knows how to put shoes on if there is a cookie in his mouth. As defensive as cynicism can make me, my rebellion operates in all directions. Not only will I not be told what to do, I wont be told what I cannot do. Operation vegetable garden full-steam ahead!

With enthusiasm like this, who needs planning! photo: Allison's worthless phone

      

Fast forward one week. Marrisa and I take the boys on a trip to Home Depot to pick up the beginnings of our supplies. In preparation, I printed some basic gardening facts, but as anyone with small children can attest, reading comprehension during daylight hours declines ten-fold after the your firstborn. Somehow while frogger-dodging the boys between tablesaws and forklifts, neither one of us noticed that container gardens require their own special soil and we instead bought 4 giant bags of dirt clearly labeled with an X over a pot. Not such a big deal, except Home Depot is about 2 miles away, neither Marrisa nor I have a car and we just schlepped 160 pounds of small human and of erroneous soil through 20 degree Queens freeway tundra--not to mention Lucas was mighty hungry and Sam had what can only be described as a runny nose through his eyeball. There was no way that soil was going back (We've since found use for said incorrect soil--perfect base for the mosquito repelling flower beds in the backyard! But more on that later).

The seedlings live in Sammy's sunny room. photo: Marrisa Senteno

I had scoffed at the little seedling pots and peat pucks at the store, considering it cheating, but next trip you can bet I bypassed the soil and loaded up the cart with these magical offerings.They had the Jiffy brand and I must say, every single seed that went into these little expanding soil wombs popped a lively sprout in about 36 hours. Sam and I were in awe, watching the babies elegantly bend their necks to the sun. My favorite part of gardening thus far is the surprise of each of the different sprouts characteristics. The tomato is ragged and pointed, the cucumber fat, round and fragrant (like cucumbers!) and the broccoli is precious, wobbly with itsy heart-shaped faces. Marrisa and Lucas came over to join the fun. They planted some peas and garden beans. While I noticed the bean seeds were on the large side, nothing could prepare me for what emerged... Giant, reptilian, monstrosities, upheaving big clumps of dirt, shucking their seed skins and rocketing tentacles blindly in every direction. For a brief ridiculous moment, I feared for the other plants, safely cradled in their own pods--maybe even my own family. It was such a violent affair, suddenly Invasion of the Body Snatchers made sense. Plants can be quite creepy. Well, these at least. Marrisa took these impressive photos of their arrival

Violently erupting from the earth! photo: Marrisa Senteno

 The cucumbers are eclipsed by the beans! photo Marrisa Senteno

 

Towering Bean Stalks. photo: Allison's lousy phone

  This is how they look today, measured against the oldest of the seedlings, the tomato. The beans, younger by 3 weeks are 4 times the size. Yowza. The problem with these little peat pellets I have noticed is they don't have the root room for bigger seedlings. The roots have creeped from the mesh binding and are scrambling for purchase. It's clear I have to repot them, and soon. I was hoping to keep the seedlings inside for another 3 weeks, which means I might need to repot twice. Dangerous prospect for such a clumsy gardener as myself. Good news is, now that there is promise of an "in your face" opportunity, I feel significantly more responsible for figuring out what the crap I am doing.

Sam and I have made a habit of checking out a kid gardening book and an adult book on our weekly library trip. This weeks picks were particularly great finds: Potatoes on Rooftops by Hadley Dyer  and Sugarsnaps and Strawberries by Andrea Bellamy. Both have very practical, beginner friendly advice for small space gardens. Click on the links to buy from Greenlight Bookstore in Brooklyn