Spring 2022 Seed-Starting
I think the hope of spring must be one of the most powerful feelings we all collectively experience. Because it’s the hope of growth. The hope of a fresh start. The hope of something new being birthed in the world and in us.
One of the things I look forward to most in preparing for spring is seed-starting day here on Kindred Farm.
After five years of farming here on this Tennessee land, it’s still a miracle to me every single time a seed sprouts. Inside a seed the size of a speck is an entire world. Behind every plant or flower that emerges from that seed, a face and a story.
Can’t wait to see how it all unfolds this season…
Here’s what we’re sowing this year:
Calendula
Marigolds
Zinnias - Multiple varieties! Can’t stop, won’t stop.
Snapdragons - first time this year!
Kale
Korean Mint (Anise Hyssop) - These are seeds from my mother-in-law, and even the teeny tiny seeds smell heavenly.
Hon Tsai Tai (Asian Greens)
Basil - Traditional and Thai Sweet
Okra
Rainbow Chard
Jalapeño
Cayenne
Unagi Cucumbers
Salanova Lettuce - our beloved salad mix we’ve been growing since year 1.
Garlic
Onions
Tomatoes - Oh, how I love thee, let me count the ways… I may or may not be growing 9 different kinds. 😅
Things we will direct-seed:
Carrots
Radishes
Beets
Butternut squash
Zucchini
Bush beans
Sunflowers
Wildflowers
Check out this Reels from seed-starting day…
Here are my seed babies a week later…. everybody is sprouting and doing what they’re supposed to do. They even had a 2-day stint in the barn last week when it was 14 degrees at night, because Tennessee March weather is crazy.
Are there many things cuter than a seed that’s just sprouted and made its way into the world? I think not.
This handful of seeds will miraculously turn into zinnias the colors of a unicorn’s mane. These tiny, papery seeds will become bouquets bursting from jars as gifts for friends or centerpieces on a table of connection. These flowers will wave on a July day down the center of a produce field we’ve tended from scratch, cheering us on, reminding us that beauty matters, and we get to have a part in it. What a privilege!
“Farming is like going through the labor of childbirth all the time, but there’s no baby at the end—just six hundred pounds of cabbage or prolific tomatoes or bushels of cucumbers that are so heavy they break the harvest baskets. We raise the plants from seed and coddle our plant babies through wind, frost, sudden heat waves, and the attacks of a myriad of insects.
We don’t create the life, but we give birth to it again and again. What we’re growing and handing over to you actually feels sacred.”
