About the potential richness and diversity in an edible garden, part 3

Cet article en français.

Diversity is an excellent thing for any garden's health : 

Until now, what I came up with as a garden design didn't start any revolution, even if it's more audacious than what we're used to see in frontyard gardens. Nevertheless, it allows me to benefit from the advantages of biodiversity :

A small bush of Common Milkweeds (Asclepias
Syriaca) which squat my flower bed and
managed to avoid eviction up to now. I conceded 
them the victory a few years ago, but I limit them
to this very spot. The numerous shoots that I must
pull out on a regular basis to avoid invasion are a
good source of mulch. On this photo, you can see
quite a few stems laying on the ground, already
half dried up. 

- I have a lot more perennial ornemental plants than vegetables. It guarantees an aesthetically pleasing layout, at least if you like cottage gardens, overflowing with blooms from the very start of spring, up to severe automn frosts. One thing is for sure, my vegetables, drowned as they are in a sea of flowers and greenery, didn't prompt a negative reaction from any of my neighbours. In fact, the vast majority of passers-by don't even notice my vegetables. They are very surprised when I hint them in the right direction with my finger.

Common milkweed (Asclepias Syriaca), a Quebec native, is a feral plant, for sure, but it cuts a fine figure with its huge pink-ball blooms, followed by attractive seedpods. If a Monarch Butterfly passes by, its favourite plant is awaiting it. Some foragers eat certain immature parts of this plant, for instance the flower cymes and the seedpods. But caution is necessary, since in Quebec and elsewhere, there were some serious cases of  poisoning. Personally, I rather leave them to Monarch butterflies and content myself with their natural beauty.

- An uninterrupted succession of blooms provide a constant source of food for pollinator insects, which then are already in place to pollinise also any edible flowering plant when it starts to bloom. Same thing for  many predatory insects, such as ladybugs, which can eat pollen as an alternative source of food whenever they don't find any prey. This way, plant diversity creates a choice accomodation for numerous beneficial insects, which will most probably choose to settle in.

Toads are quite numerous in my
garden. They are permanent dwellers.
Here and there, I build shelters like
this one for them, if they please.

- A large variety of plants offers an ecosystem capable of providing for a large array of living beings: micro-organisms, mushrooms, insects, worms, amphibians, small rodents, bats and birds. In turn, they take care of keeping each others' populations in check and therefore, they preserve balance. Sure, bad bugs will be present also, but their predators as well, useful helpers that will work for me. As a result, I used a biological insecticide only once in ten years. By the way, it wasn't very effective. The imbalance finally disappeared for good all by itself a couple of years later. The only recurrent problem was a seasonal infestation of caterpillars that would have eaten every needle of a Mugo Pine Tree without my intervention (manual removal). In the end, I cut it down, because it wasn't in good health anyway.

A tiny spring peeper found refuge in the heart of a "Trahlyta" daylilly flower, of which the petals sports a special mix of tinges : lavander blue going to grey. Throughout the years, I also found grey treefrogs, but their presence is only occasional, just like regular frogs.  It is still impressive to find some a couple of feet away from the sidewalk on a site that was so hot and dry when I started gardening there.

This slug is in a dangerous
predicament, crossing rough cement
between two garden beds. A small tuff
of black-eyed susans waits for it
on the other side, but the though
leaves will be a disappointment...

- Another advantage of polyculture, one that's often mentionned in articles on the ecology of the garden: vegetables that are hidden amongst other plants are harder to find for pests. Of course it's easier for them to wreck havoc in a traditional vegetable garden where all the good plants are gathered together in perfect rows, like an appetizing all-you-can-eat buffet.

At the opposite of this, a diversified garden will force the pests to use a lot of energy just to find the coveted plant. Furthermore, they might not be able to find them all and while moving from one plant in search of the next, they may find themselves nose to nose with  their predator.

A grey treefrog enjoyed a spa afternoon on the top of the pool filter. It seemed to enjoy the continuous vibration of the device, completely indifferent to my presence in close proximity. This tiny arboreal amphibian has the amazing capacity to change colors in a matter of minutes, going from green to brown to grey, to camouflage itself. Apparently, it hasn't yet managed to turn a neat, plastic-white colour, else it would have made for a pretty nose!

- When perennials take all the place, weeds become less of a problem. Furthermore, established perennials mean the ground hasn't been tilled in all those years. Its structure and quality are thus greatly enhanced, simply because nature's work of cycling nutrients isn't destroyed by the blades of a tiller each spring. A surprising array of living creatures, micro-organisms, myceliums, springtails, burrowing insects of all kinds, earthworms, amphibians and even tiny rodents have a way of tilling that is far more respectful than ours. They aerate the soil, digest organic matter either fresh or already decomposing, add fertilizer by their dejections or cadavers, move nutrients around and contribute to make the soil an ecological place that is both healthy and diverse.

Two varieties of Burning Bush (Dictamnus Albus).
Their white or pink stalks give height in the garden
come May. I find their perfume simply irresistible.
The Burning Bush can live up to 60 years, but they

have a hard time being transplanted.

Maybe that's the reason why it's so seldom

seen in Quebec's gardens. Most unfortunate,

because it's a splendid plant.

- Every species of plant brings its personnal contribution to the general health of the garden. For instance, Pasque Flower (Pulsatilla), with its big tap root that digs deep down in the soil, manages to reach nutrients unavailable to plants with a shallower root system. The Pasque Flower stores these nutrients in its tissues and releases them on the surface when its aerial parts die, making the nutrients available to plants around. As for the  groundcovers, they form a protective mat that retains moisture and shelters the soil from wind and rain erosion.

Some aromatic plants, like mint or burning bush, by releasing powerful perfumes in their vicinity, hide the scent of other plants and thus protect them from pests by desorienting them. And it bewitches the human senses too.

My garden at the end of March, when I'm
almost done cutting down all the dead
vegetation of last fall. The debris are
cut short and left in place (except for seeds,
if I don't want them to sprout and give
birth to  new plants).

- All this magic happens because I leave vegetal debris on my beds in fall. Hélène does the same in her garden. When spring comes, we cut all the left over stalks and use them as mulch. The soil is fed and grows every year that way. Sometimes, we have to push aside the mulch layer to make way for the growth of some plants in spring.

Results: First, the occasional thaw-and-freeze cycles of mid-winter are not fatal anymore to some more fragile specimen. Second, I rarely have to water my perennials in summer, even in times of drought, and third, I rarely fertilize them. As for my annual vegetables, when planted in good soil and protected by a good thickness of mulch, I only have to water them occasionnally, like after many days without rain or during a heatwave.

Crocuses are among the first few plants to come out from my vegetal mulch. After a very colourful show, they will disappear until next spring, and in the meanwhile, no one will be able to guess the presence of their dormant bulbs.

- Nature spontaneously creates groupings of plants that, because of their complementary characteristics, come to cooperate and help each other out. When a garden has lots of varieties, chances that they may form beneficial companionships are multiplied. This happens  without me even being conscious about it, for the most part. Daffodils repel rodents, catmint draws... cats who, in turn, repel birds and rodents, the few dandelions that can manage to root in the garden leave a breathing hole in the soil once I pluck them out, and they leave good nutrients on the ground where I drop them to decompose. The lilac Miss Kim slows down the gushing winds that slip between my house and the neighbours. Its falling leaves are left in place and contribute to the existing layer of mulch in its vicinity.

- Since plants are complex beings, we do have to expect some measure of failure, sometimes inexplicable ones. For instance, these papavers that never managed to settle anywhere in my garden, even thought I tried and tried, and the conditions were, in theory, very adequate. And these  radishes that never amounted to anything but producing leaves wherever I tried them. I think that after a series of unsuccessful trials, it may be preferable to stop cultivating something that definitely has a hard time to grow in one's garden. The easy way to garden is sometimes synonymous with humility, wisdom and going with the general flow.

A view of my garden from the sidewalk, after the ice storm of 
December 2013.
It transformed itself into a still life. I think it's prettier than the flat
surface covered in icy snow that would have resulted from my cutting all the dead vegetation close to the ground before winter. Furthermore, a new crop of mulch is waiting to be cut down for next season. This fall, I left in place all the Black Eye Susans' dried flowers. If some neighbouring birds start to get hungry before spring, they will be able to count on their seeds to await next spring.

The most common plants may give us huge surprises, like this Geranium (Pelargonium), an annual  that  can offer us a few leaves to chop in order to add an unusual taste to a salad. 

How I pushed a little more the "edible plant" definition and the polyculture principle :

One of my favourite exploration strategies is to gather information on each one of the species present in my garden, weeds included. Internet is a very valuable source of new informations, as are some specialized books on gardening. This way, through my readings, I realized that many plants among weeds as well as ornementals, are perfectly edible, or present themselves with very useful qualities.

My fall harvest of violet leaves and
stems. I chopped, blanched and
froze them for further use in a 
spaghetti sauce (leaves) and a soup
(minced stems). Violets multiply 
themselves readily in my garden, even
forming a nice ground cover of
medium height in some spots. 
I discovered that we can harvest the 
young leaves to eat them fresh and 
raw just about any time in the growing
 season, but even the older leaves are 
edible when finely chopped 
 and cooked.

This way, I found out that daylily shoots are delicious. As for Hélène, she recently discovered that our hostas are considered genuine vegetables in Japan. All this time I was thwarted by the fact that I didn't have any sunny spot for asparagus plants. And now, I discovered that I may harvest two alternative greeneries already very well established in my garden ! Same thing for some leafy edible plants that can incorporate themselves in my salads. Here, on a regular basis, we eat the leaves of violets (Viola), Musk-Mallow (Malva Moschata) and Linden tree (aka Basswood, or Lime tree - Tilia Americana, Tilia Cordata or Tilia X. Europea). Yes, it's a tree, and quite common in urban areas. Martin Crawford, one of U.K. leading authorities on forest gardens, even refers to it as the Salad Tree.

There's also the occasional edible mushroom that may offer itself as a sampling, when we can identify it with certainty. And let's not forget that maple syrup may be harvested even in cities !

Because Blue False Indigos are huge perennials,
I've been tempted to sacrifice them. But I would
have deprived myself of first quality green
manure. All aerial parts of these plants will
end up as mulch, enriching it with all the
nitrogen that they accumulated during the
growing season. By the way, Blue False Indigos
too can live up to sixty years.

I also learned that my Blue False Indigos (Baptisia Australis), though not edible, are part of the great family Fabacea. Therefore, they play an important role in soil fertilization in a natural way and without any effort from my part.

And when I pull out a dandelion, whenever its root is fat enough, I harvest it to dry it up, because one of my favourite herbal teas is made of stinging nettle leaves and dandelion roots. This tea is recommended by herbalists for its detoxificating and invigorating effects. As Hélène already pointed out, every plant has its usefulness, even if we, gadeners, aren't always aware of it.

All those discoveries and observations made me think a lot. Why not use as many different perennials as possible as a food source ? After all, their advantages are numerous :

- Many species of perennials grow very well in part shade or even in shade, unlike our traditional vegetables.

- They require minimal maintenance, compared to annual vegetables , and many of them are not invading. Incidentally, the ones that are more agressive may be efficiently controled by harvesting them on a regular basis. It's what I do with goutweed.

- As long as perennials find what they need to prosper in the spot we chose for them, they are much more resistant to climat changes. Indeed, either in bad or nice weather, your clump of chives or your big hosta will  reappear year after year.

- If we learn to cook with edible perennials, we can vary our meals without spending one cent, as long as we're willing to get used to new tastes.

There is plenty of choice  :

If you like to aromatize your meals
with celery leaves, lovage
(levisticum officinale) may be for you.
Here, this perennial can reach 3 feet
(1m) in part shade. In Helene's case,
in full sun and during the good gardening
season of 2013, it reached 6 feet.
 Thus, one plant is enough for an entire
family.

Many perennials are edible. We can eat them whole or in parts, as vegetables or herbs, use them for their medicinal qualities or they simply make good beverages or herbal teas.

Among them, some are used as herbs : lovage, catnip, lemon balm, mint, origano, wild ginger, wild garlic, horseradish, chives, egyptian onion.

For bee balm, echinacea, mullein, plantain and the roots of dandelion, these plants can come and round up our pharmacy arsenal.



Jerusalem artichokes tubers
(Helianthus Tuberosus L.).

Helene and me both harvest the tubers of jerusalem artichokes and I will be able to harvest the immature fronds of ostrich fern (Matteuccia Struthiopteris) when they are still in the form of fiddle heads, as soon as my clumps get bigger. Watch out thought, this species have been declared vulnerable by the Quebec governement, but it's still possible to buy some in garden centers, in a respectful manner towards the environment.

Rhubarbs, when in bloom, become the showstoppers of the month, and then, I can use the stalks either in a dessert or jam or even extract their juice as a substiture for lemon juice. I never noticed any weakness in my plants if I let them flower. I use the big leaves (toxic if ingested!) as mulch directly around the plants themselves.

Amongst groundcovers that are dense but not too high, sweet woodruff (Galium Odoratum L.), with which Helene makes Maitrank. 



Goutweed (Aegopodium podagraria), 
here in its variegated form,  is a perennial
green that grows very well in part-shade
and is invasive. It's also one of the most
delicious weed. I have an isolated bunch
because it was choking every other plant
in its path. 

Here, there's a couple of common weeds I use with abandon as greens : 

goutweed gives a beautiful turn to meat dishes, sheep's sorrel (Rumex Acetosella) from which the sour leaves can be used either in soups or salads,  chickweed (Stellaria Media), that I allow to grow in my containers at the foot of the other plants and that I eat in its entirety (extremely tiny leaves, flowers and stalks) for its refreshing taste, or even common purslane (Portulaca oleracea), a little succulent plant well propagated in Quebec of which I find the leaves juicy and delicious, but that requires poor soil, a soil that's becoming rarer in my yard. I have trouble still with dandelion and plantain leaves (not my taste), but I sometimes use ground ivy (Glechoma Hederacea) as an herb, on occasion. Stinging nettle (Urtica Dioica L.), is considered by some as a super plant for the incredible array of qualities it can boast about. The leaves are good cooked, like spinach, in soups or added to some recipes. I grow it in containers to prevent its spread, since I react particularly badly to its stinging (from the "hairs" on the plant).

Then again, we can think of all the varieties of trees and bushes who give edible fruits: gooseberries and currants make an abundant harvest of berries, just like raspberries and blueberries which can also be used to make herbal teas from the leaves. Elderberries offer flowers and berries if you are patient enough to do the harvest. Roses of either Rugosa or Canina varieties give their petals and their fruits called rosehips.

Finally, we may incorporate in the garden beds some small fruit trees, cherry, apple, Juneberry and Common Sea-Buckthorn, to name a few. And don't forget that some other species of trees may be tapped, besides maples. For instance, birch trees give a syrup presenting a texture and taste a little similar to molasses, but more refined. Really delicious. This syrup too may be homemade. 

For me, the nicest part of all this adventure is that my quest for new informations is not completed yet. I did not have the time to investigate over at least half of the species present in my garden. Therefore, my fun is far from over !

My garden under a coat of ice.
Have a happy gardening year in 2014 !

About the potential richness and diversity in an edible garden, part 2

Cet article en français.

Facing the sidewalk and right next to the entryway of our yard, some thyme slowly crawls on a chunked cement layer, a byproduct of recent renovations. In my yard, thyme needs to lie over such a dry material to grow well and thrive. This beautiful flower carpet is  sprinkled with tiny Johnny Jump Ups, whose flowers are edible. A wooden half-barrel is a good way to have a ready-space for annuals, either they be ornemental or edible (or even both!). It can also be decorated with a cat. Behold Souris (which means "Mouse"), lounging in it in the picture.

How my idea of a vegetable garden gradually evolved into something else:

Almost thirty years ago, I started a very standard vegetable garden, a rectangle square at the back of my yard, where the sun was. Some years after that, I had to abandon the project, not having enough time to adequately start it in the spring. But I could still find time to grow an ornemental perennial garden throughout the summer. Finally, about 3 years ago, I renewed with the idea of growing edible plants again.

Of course, the image of a classical, rectangular vegetable garden bed came back to me at once. But I knew that in my yard, this was now impossible. About 20 years had passed and the trees in my backyard and my neighbours' had grown so much that the old vegetable patch didn't have the required 6 hours of sun necessary for a lot of the vegetables that we cherish : tomatoes, cucumbers, beans, radishes, carrots, etc. If I wanted this kind of harvest, I had to get to the sun, meaning I had to envision using the ornemental garden that was in the frontyard, in plain view to every passer-by.

That's when a series of lucky coincidences made me aware of permaculture and its principles and through it, different techniques, such as polyculture.



In this daylily haven, the red flowers are produced by "Red Bud", in full bloom at the end of June. Other varieties will take over, one at a time, until fall. The flowering silver stalks with pretty lavender flowers are lamb's ears (Stachys Bizantina), offering a stricking contrast.

I hence found myself faced with that same dilemma that anonymous reader was talking about: would I have to sacrifice my perennial garden to grow a few vegetables? After so many years of work, this thought was disheartening.

Almost 30 years of gardening made me understand that, to do things differently, nothing beats personal experience. I'm also very aware that gardening is more a "general principles way to do things" than a "rigid rules science" since each garden - and each gardener - is unique. I was ready for this challenge. 

Integration of an edible garden in an already established ornemental one:

To this day, my plan as not come full circle yet. It probably never will anyway and that's not necessarily the goal either, since gardens evolve all the time. Here's what I've done up to now.

 The existing ornemental garden was already brimming with mature plants so of course I had to sacrifice a few, or at least reorganise things, if I wanted to have space enough for those new edible plants. After all, it was clear that squeezing a tomato plant between two mature hostas would affect drastically the harvest of those delicious red fruits!

I started with a change that was a necessity in itself: 

Instead of pulling out the white cedar stump 
(Thuja Occidentalis), I decided to bury it
completely. I carpeted newspaper sheets on
the ground to choke weeds, than emptied a bag of
old potting soil, added good garden soil, manure
and compost. I assume the stump will take years
to decompose; it will hence absorb nitrogen but
very slowly. One thing's for sure, it will start
feeding the ground and retain water like a sponge,
which will diminish my task of watering the new
surrounding plants.

It was in the spring of 2011 that I decided I wanted vegetables again. This project coincided with the removal of an enormous white cedar (Thuja occidentalis) that was completely obstructing the east side of our front porch and was on its way to damaging the roof. Actually, the entire eastern side was unusable for gardening since that beast was taking all the water available in the vicinity while casting too much shadow.

Like with many other municipalities, we needed a permit to remove it and we had to replace it with another tree of our choice. No problem there: I wanted a fruit tree anyway. My choice was a juneberry (Amelanchier Canadensis), a tree that would retain a more modest frame, one that would give me delicious berries at the beginning of July and one that would be fine with a little less than full sun.

I planted the Juneberry about 10 feet (3 m) north of the white cedar and I circled it with a ring of daffodil bulbs, which have the reputation of repelling small rodents and competing with spring weeds. I completed with a  sedum groundcover and astilbes a little farther. I planted catmint (Nepeta) upclose. We talk about that plant in detail in our article cat squad, safe berries. I intend to plant comfrey too, since it will help the juneberry by enriching the soil and keeping weeds at bay, and maybe I will also add one or two plants of chives. In one corner I tried to grow strawberries with small success up until now. Once they are well established however, it should go well, but this may take some time. On a whim, I bought 3 plants of cranberries but they died last spring, althought the site's attributes were fine (soil acidity was good, I put a very thick layer of mulch, there was lots of water pooling from the roof of the house). It wasn't enough apparently. I replaced them with a scented hosta.

Picture taken in July 2011. The east side of the house as taken a completely different appearence. The juneberry is still young but already producing fruits. After 3 years of gardening in that very spot, I can attest that the crops were plentiful (tomatoes the first year - they are in the picture - beans the second and back to tomatoes the third). Near the wooden balcony on the right, variegated dogwood. The house needs regular maintenance since the wood walls have to be repainted now and then. So I placed a path to give access and space enough to prop a ladder (these spaces are filled with a black mulch). Talking about paint, when we want to produce food, we have to think about a possible contamination of the soil. I'll talk more about it at the end of this series of articles.

I worked on the perennial beds:
I relocated some of my perennials elsewhere creating isles of bare soil here and there, throughout the sea of ornemental plants. I made sure those spaces were big enough to fool the annual vegetables, making them believe they were in a traditional vegetable patch. Their spacing from the perennials is good enough to limit competition for nutrients and water.

On the west side of the baywindow
seen in the opposite picture,
I had already lost 2 clematis in
the past. I changed tactics and in
2011, 2 pole bean plants took over
the space. The cultivar is
"Trionfo Violetto". It produces
very well.

For example, under the big baywindow of our living room (pictured beneath), I can easily place 4 to 6 tomato plants and let them spill on the path next to their bed, while they are screened from public eyes by two other beds between the street and them. In between, a couple of containers filled with flowering annuals are placed to fill the space until the tomato plants are big enough to claim it.

At the foot of the baywindow, vegetables in containers or in ground enjoy the sun and warmth while remaining discreet. On the right of the windows lie my first bed of groundcherries (Physalis). In the foreground, between a container of shiso to the right, a wooden half-barrel filled with annuals in the back and clumps of different varieties of daylilies to the left is my second bed of groundcherries. They form a very pretty bush to boot.

Strawberry-spinach 
(Chenopodium
Capitatum), a small
vegetable that takes little
space but one that can also
be choked by its
neighbouring plants.

These eggplants have been planted straight
in bags.

Through the beds I placed some plants in bags or in containers. I already had 3 wooden half-barrels, scattered through the flowerbeds. As the plants that grow in them are higher then those in beds, it gives them prime sun and prevent them from being overwhelmed by the well established perennials. The next step would be to install vegetables instead of flowers in those half-barrels, but I would also need to arrange them with a water reserve at the bottom, to avoid to water them all the time.

At about 10 feet (3 m) from the sidewalk, just
next to the narrow lawn border that's left, a 
6 square feet (45 cm X 100cm) islet is filled 
with peppers, green onions, eggplants and
strawberry-spinach. Many daylily plants and
bloody cranesbill (not pictured) encompass
the vegetables on each side. In the back ground,
sedums close off the area. On the following
 photo,you can see what this space looked
like at the very beginning of the season .

My garden is largely inspired by the cottage gardens of the victorian era in England: a mish-mash of perennial ornementals planted very close together. I only added vegetables to the mix and not all of them are hidden from the eyes of passers-by, as the picture to the left attests.

Here's a list of what's already in place:

More than 40 species of perennials (that's without counting different cultivars in one species), half a dozen dwarf trees and bushes and about a dozen types of spring bulbs (again, without counting the different cultivars in one species). 



Through all that, I seeded and planted - with different degrees of success depending on the species and the seasons - many types of vegetables: tomatoes, cucumbers, melons, peppers, beans and peas, eggplants, greens of all kinds and cabbages, carrots, radishes and beets, quinoa, strawberry-spinach, Malabar spinach, potatoes and groundcherries. Everything rotates too, so the same family of plants cannot be in the same islet year after year, something that would impoverish the soil and possibly allow some diseases or insects specific to that plant's family to establish themselves.



Here's what the tiny vegetable isle
 looked like at plantation time, on the
spring of 2011. I added a generous carpet
carpet of mulch between the tiny plants.



Some still green gooseberries.

Of course, I don't rely only on my front garden, to grow edible plants. In my backyard, even thought the shadows have spreaded with the passing years, I can still find sunny spots, enough to place other edible plants, especially small fruits who can generally deal with a little bit less than the 6 hours of sun necessary for many other types of plants. It is the case with blueberries, gooseberries, currants, honeyberries, juneberries, black raspberries, strawberries and rhubarb. But it doesn't mean either all vegetables are excluded from the backyard.

Where my old vegetable beds used to be, potato plants have found a good growing spot under a heave mulch of dead leaves. Around this bed, strawberries, daylillies, iris and rhubarbs share the five hours sun that hit the spot. A line of gooseberry bushes (not pictured) protects everything from the north-western winds.

Potatoes in bags, tomatoes, greens, herbs,
flowers, cabbages, beans, peas. The place looks
like a mini-jungle. A couple of plastic buckets,
hidden behind my other containers, hold
part of my rainwater reserve.

Another space was waiting for me, arms wide open!

The next step was quite obvious to me : the end of the white cedar naturally meant more light (double what it used to be) on the covered front porch. Suddenly it had the potential to bear a container garden!

This challenge was a lot less daunting for me than the integration of annual vegetables in my perennial beds. I decided to dress a list of advantages and disadvantages about my possible new gardening space:

- Rainwater hoarding can be done on the spot, but the rain itself can't reach most of the plants because of the porch's roof. So I have to water the plants myself even when it is raining.

My bean plants "Blue Lake", at the beginning of
August. The net is nearly invisible from the street
and I don't even bother removing it for winter.
A dozen of these plants give me delicious
green beans to eat fresh from August to
the harsher frost of October. It's not enough
to make preserves for winter however.

- This roof allows me to hang a net or ropes that will make it possible for a vertical garden to grow on. In the middle of the season, this green screen will give more intimacy to the porch's space and protect greens from the stronger sunrays.

- The porch receives full south and east sun exposure, but at the end of the afternoon, around 4pm, it becomes bathed in shadow.

- The heat can sometimes be intense, which normally forces me to give water on a regular basis, since the containers can dry pretty quickly: in a heat wave, I might have to water twice a day, or else risk losing the plants placed in any ordinary container. I had to find a solution to make watering less tedious.

Most of my water reserve is contained in this magnificient sandstone barrel that I found in a yard sale. I think it was used to make wine or marinades in a time past. Leaning on it is the wooden lid painted gray-blue, it was handmade by the previous owner. Once this lid is in place and a couple of potted pelargonium plants are set on it, nobody notices it. On the right side of the picture is my herbs container.

- The stones and cement of the porch and walls of the house absorb a good amount of heat from the sun, as does the water tank pictured above. Furthermore, the space is protected from most strong winds. These two factors together make for a comfortable nook to protect plants from spring colds and fall frosts and from nightly drops in temperature in August. It's a real warmth trap. With this, I gain some gardening weeks at the beginning and end of the season. In this protected area, I manage to collect the last of my tomatoes at the very end of October and this year, my rocket (Eruca Sativa) stayed alive and well until mid-December. It's true that this green as the reputation to keep well in cold climate but still, what a joy!

- When I take care of this piece of garden, I'm protected from the weather as well; lovely when the day is chilly, windy or rainy. I also have good artificial lighting there, which allows me to take care of this garden after work hours, even after the sun is down (useful in spring and fall). In the middle of the summer, the bonus of working when the sun is down is to avoid the heat of the day.

- This porch garden is ideal to cultivate herbs and cherry tomatoes, amongst others, since their proximity to my kitchen means that I am more inclined to use them while cooking something.

I improvised a container for my herbs (the white structure on spindly legs) from a school desk missing the top and left on the side of the road. I carpeted the bottom with two layers of thick plastic sheets and disposed pebbles in it. The containers are balanced on these pebbles. Quickly, the roots of the plants managed to escape their containers through the flow holes at the bottom of them. When I water, I aim to make a water reserve between the pebbles, at the bottom of the plastic bags. Later on, when the soil in the containers starts to dry up, the roots can reach in that water reserve to pump water up. This will keep the soil moist for a longer period of time and the plants will endure until I'm available to water them again.

- Right at the beginning, I installed my plants almost exclusively in containers with double bottoms to make water reserves; some that I bought, others that I made myself out of two different containers. The top container must be perforated at the bottom and it must not touch the bottom of the container under it (the one that will act as a water tank). If both bottoms are touching each other when you place one inside the other, this may be achieved by placing pebbles or bricks, or even small empty yogurt containers upside down at the bottom of the lower container. Any of those objects will act as "legs" to raise the upper container. 

The idea is for the soil in the top container not to soak in the bottom container (the water reservoir), else the soil would always be wet and it would promote root rot. The lower container should also have a flow hole through its side, level with where the bottom of the upper container reaches, this way, the lower container can never be too full. In order to make the water go up, you can make a ribbon made of a torn fabric band and lay it on the bottom of the top container before adding any soil. You insert the ends of the fabric ribbon through the flow holes of the top container: the fabric will get in contact with the water in the lower container and thus will bring water up to the soil when it's dry, simply by capillarity. Eventually, the plants will reach the water below by themselves by shooting a few long roots through the holes. 

With this type of container, I can be absent for at least two days in the worst heat wave, and the plants will have plenty of water for themselves.

The removal of the white cedar brought a lot of sunlight on the porch. Here, roman lettuces are interplanted with beets. They grow in rectangular containers that are equiped with a double bottom - to make a water tank. Each of these containers also gave me a third harvest. Indeed, on the south of the lettuces I planted pole beans in a single parallel line. They take little space at their base, rather spreading upward, climbing to a black net. Soon, they will provide shade to the lettuces, preventing their early bolting and extending their harvest.  The lettuce harvest will be over before the beets get to an interesting size. These 3 vegetables are fast friends, here. On one of the stairs, a white bucket has collected rain from the roof (our house doesn't have gutters). This bucket got filled to the rim within 10 minutes under a good rainstorm. All I need to do now is take it and hide it away.

Here's what the porch looks like from the street at the end of July. The white cedar had been on the corner of it to the right. Most of the passers-by don't even notice that this space shelters vegetables.

Favouring successive harvests, maybe a tad less important than one big one, in order to obtain diversity and continuity in crops:

 All kinds of tricks are possible to maximize the restrained space of containers. For example, at the beginning of the growth of lettuces, when it is time to thin them, I take some of the young seedlings out to make space for the others to grow well. I don't throw away those seedlings, no ! I add them to salads. Comes a time where I don't need to thin their ranks. Starting from this moment, I change tactics again and I harvest them in a different way. I start by taking only a leaf or two from the outside of each plant. The plants keep growing, forming new leaves and getting bigger. 

This way, my lettuce harvest is spread on a longer period, since I don't kill the plants, and the leaves are always very fresh, while I avoid to end up with too much lettuce in too short a period. They can pretty much produce leaves all season too, however with the coming of summer warmth, they engage into another state of growth and the leaves become more bitter. When this bitterness starts to bug me, I take the spine of the leaves out and just keep the thin part of the leaves (the"wings"). This way, I can still harvest lettuce even past its prime, until around mid-July, even if the micro-climate on the balcony is warm.

A score of those  roman lettuce flowers that
I let dry out on the plants before harvesting
them. At the heart of each flower is hidden a
dozen seeds. We need to extract the seeds from
 the dried flowers' envelope and it takes some
time, but it's not hard to do.

Finally, all parts of the leaves start excreting latex, that white bitter substance exuding along any cut. They can't be eaten anymore. At this stage, I only keep 2 or 3 plants to allow them to complete their life cycle. They'll flower and each pollinised flower will wilt, dry up and give seeds that I'll use for next year. With 2 or 3 plants, I will get more than enough seeds for myself, my friends, family and neighbors.  By the way, it is possible to harvest many types of vegetable seeds to keep for the next season, vegetables like peas, beans, radishes and beets. You just need to let one or two plants bolt. In the case of plants producing fruits, like tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers or squash, you'll find the seeds inside the fruits, of course.

Just remember that the seeds from hybridized plants that are fertile won't necessarily give offsprings that are true to their parents. But it doesn't necessarily mean either  that they will give vegetables of lesser quality. Nevertheless, there's risk and adventure, here. And sometimes, interesting discoveries...



My roman lettuce seed harvest 2013,
from the flowers of only 2 plants.