National Agriculture Day begins at home.

Today has been proclaimed National Agriculture Day, so what better way to celebrate than with a picture of dirt?

Whoops. That’s soil, not dirt. As a master gardener once told me, “Dirt is what comes out of your vacuum cleaner. Soil is a living organism.”

President Joe Biden proclaimed National Agriculture Day in order to recognize “our commitment to and appreciation for our country’s farmers, ranchers, foresters, farmworkers, and those who work in the agriculture sector across the Nation.”

Well said, sir. But may I suggest that we also appreciate the nation’s fruit and vegetable gardeners along with the big-time growers? After all, they are providing food for themselves and, often, for lucky relatives and friends.

And, dear readers: May I suggest that you join us? 

 

One-third of U.S. residents already garden for food (especially vegetables), according to the University of Florida. Not all of them live on farms, either. Plenty of folks have relatively small amounts of land in which to dig and delve. Some are limited to containerized plantings on balconies and/or decks.

Don’t have any of that? Challenge accepted! If you have even a single sunny windowsill, you might be able to produce a pot of herbs or a cherry tomato plant.

Or how about a containerized cucumber, pepper or green bean plant? Renee’s Garden has produced the following potent pot-ables:

• Container basil: Italian Cameo
• Container bush beans: French Mascotte
• Container spinach: Little Hero
• Container tomato: Super Bush
• Container romaine: Sweetie Baby
• Container cucumber: Bush slicer
• Container peppers: Baby Belles
• Container zucchini: Astia
• Container snap peas: Little Crunch
• Container lettuce: Ruby and Emerald Duet
• Container chard: Pot of Gold
• Container kale: Green curls

Suddenly that sliver of balcony has some potential, doesn’t it?

(Note: I am a Renee’s Garden affiliate and may receive a small finder’s fee if you buy using my link. But I was a Renee’s Garden customer before I was ever an affiliate. This place sells marvelous seeds and plants.)

 

National Agriculture Day for civilians

 

It’s not that simple, of course. A condo dweller might be challenged to find space to store the bag of soil and some fertilizer, and obtain the potting container(s) in which to grow those tomatoes and peppers. On the other hand, it’s not as though gardening is the only hobby that takes up space. (Back me up, quilters and potters.)

<< Minimize those startup costs! See “Extreme frugality: Gardening edition”>>

DF and I live on a house lot that measures less than 9,800 square feet, a bunch of which is taken up by a house, two outbuildings and a greenhouse/shed combo. Last year we grew and/or preserved apples, strawberries, raspberries, rhubarb, carrots, peas, potatoes, cucumbers, peppers, tomatoes, spinach, celery, a couple kinds of lettuce, onions, kale, carrots, garlic and edamame.

Most of that was preserved. The only exceptions were the strawberries (too delicious eaten fresh to turn into jam), lettuces and spinach. The rest went into jars, freezer bags, bottles (apple juice and rhubarb “soda”), or plastic containers (after a stint in the dehydrator).

We’re becoming quite fond of that dehydrator, which gives us gallons of dried greens (kale, quinoa, celery, and several kinds of volunteer Asian greens), half a dozen quarts of dried apple rings, and rhubarb leather that’s graced many of DF’s lunches during ski season.

Not everyone wants to go to that much trouble. Not everyone can go to that much trouble. I’m not asking that you go full Amish all of a sudden. In fact, I think you should start small. Be advised, though, that container plants are a gardener’s gateway drug. Once you’ve mastered the art of tending one or two green babies in pots – and once you’ve tasted the result – you could quite literally hunger for more.

That’s especially true if you’ve never eaten just-picked produce. Who knows how long those “fresh” green beans or tomatoes have been out of the ground, or how far they had to travel to get to you?

 

A form of prayer

 

Look at that top photo again, the one of the dirt. At the bottom you’ll see DF’s hand and the end of a pair of tweezers. Yes: He is putting seed into pots using tweezers. That’s because those are celery seeds, which are not much bigger than the period at the end of this sentence.

 

 

Watching those celery seeds germinate (which takes a stubbornly long time – celery teaches you the meaning of patience) is miraculous. Watching the little sprouts turn to teeny-tiny plants? Also miraculous.

Transplanting them into the soil is a form of prayer. Protecting them from pests turns you into a fierce guardian. (Not too many pests here, luckily, except for moose). Watching the stalks lengthen and thicken and begin to produce flowers (or, in the case of celery, just more stalks) turns you into a hopeful son-of-a-gun: Can’t wait for my first peas/radishes/whatever.

Except that you do have to wait. Even radishes, which in gardening terms are practically instant, take about four weeks. Spinach and lettuce are similarly rapid – well, rapid relative to things like potatoes and apples.

Meanwhile, you wait, and you watch, and you weed. (About that last: Mulching helps keep the weeds to a minimum and water retention to the maximum.) You enjoy seeing the changes in the plants, and the way the soil feels between your fingers, and the smell of the greenery.

Except for tomatoes. Tomato plants really stink.

 

What if I don’t know how to garden?

 

Sooooo many places to learn. Your state’s Cooperative Extension Service. Local master gardener programs. Garden clubs. Garden books. And, of course, gardening info websites, such as:

Local CES offices can give you the real dirt, so to speak, on what works and what doesn’t in your region

Master Gardener program – generally run through CES, this group does research, writes articles and offers knowledge to the community

The Home Garden Seed Association – look under “home gardeners” for articles

Renee’s Garden has articles and videos on topics like garden basics, growing from seed and container gardening

One of the things to learn from such places is whether your conditions truly are ripe, as it were, for gardening. If you mostly have a north-facing property, work within the limitations. Otherwise you’re setting yourself up for failure. A master gardener or a frequent commenter on a gardening message board will also tell you not to try too much too soon – again, you could be setting yourself up for failure, or at least for fatigue, anxiety and frustration.

Put another way: If you wanted to learn how to ride a horse, you wouldn’t start with a 20-mile trek. Don’t plant too many things at once, either.

That said, gardening can be a balm for soul and some meals to remember. DF and I are happily using up the produce we put aside. We know exactly what’s in that food and, more to the point, what’s not in the food. (Hint: No preservatives except a pressure canner, a dehydrator or a freezer.)

Every time we enjoy that celery in a soup or have a side dish of purple carrots, we remember the times we tended those products. On a dark winter morning, the icy tang of frozen raspberries reminds us of summer hours spent picking. When I stir some homemade applesauce into my homemade yogurt, I can see those ruby globes weighing down the slender branches of our two small trees.

Gardens nourish us twice: once in the growing and once in the eating.

If you can, give National Agriculture Day a try. Very few of us will ever be true farmers. But never underestimate the thrill of producing even some of the food you eat.

 

Related reading:

• The promise of spring
• Looking back at the garden
• The marvel of an Alaska summer
• The quinoa whisperer