Gardening : She Grows Her Own Vegetables--on Balcony
One day last spring, as I was picking my way through a disappointing pile of tomatoes at a local supermarket, my eye caught a display of illustrated vegetable seed packets.
I wistfully compared the pictures on the packets to the available produce. Suddenly an idea was born, and I set about transplanting my Midwestern roots to my apartment.
The major difference between growing a garden on a large plot of land and growing one in apartment space is that everything in an apartment garden must be grown in containers. So some crops, such as full-sized corn, squash, potatoes or melons, were out of the picture.
However, even after narrowing down my choices, there were still a lot of possibilities. Strawberries, tomatoes, peppers, onions and peas were suitable for my sunny balcony. Lettuce and herbs such as basil and cilantro could be grown indoors, where it was cooler.
Some vegetables that I thought would be out of the question (corn, carrots) were available in miniature sizes, so I was able to plant them outside on the balcony.
The few gardening supplies that I needed were easy to find. Seeds, soil, containers and a watering can were available from local garden centers, supermarkets or mail order houses. Starting my balcony garden cost about $50, and now that I have the containers, future gardens will be less expensive.
As soon as I entered the world of gardening, I found it was easy to learn whatever I needed to know at any point in the process. Information about germination, plant size and length of growing cycles was printed on seed packets and in planting descriptions in seed catalogues. Gardening books give more detailed accounts of planting and harvesting, and garden centers have helpful “green thumbs” who will be glad to try to answer questions.
When I opened the seed packets I was astounded by how small some of the seeds were in relation to how large the plants would be when fully grown. Strawberry seeds, for example, were minute.
To give the more delicate seeds a strong beginning, I started them indoors. The easiest and least expensive way to do this was to sow the seeds in peat pots filled with soil and wrapped in a small plastic bag sealed to keep in moisture and heat. I placed them on a south-facing windowsill, where they remained until I put them outdoors.
Larger and heartier seeds were best started outdoors. I sowed peas, carrots and onions directly in their containers outdoors, according to the instructions on the packets.
Germination took anywhere from seven to 14 days. The lettuce, tomatoes and carrots were up first, and the cilantro took longest to pop out of the soil. Much of the fun at that stage was the discovery. It was almost magical to see that the peppers had sprouted overnight or that a new set of leaves was emerging from the slender beginning of a strawberry plant.
Once the indoor seedlings had sprouted their second sets of leaves, about a week after germination, they were strong enough to move outdoors, and I transplanted them.
Each type of plant required a slightly different container, depending on its height and width. Strawberries, for instance, grew in a bush and needed a deep, wide pot about 14 inches in diameter, but miniature carrots and onions could be grown in a shallower, rectangular bed.
I chose plastic over clay pots because they were lighter and unbreakable; lessening the load becomes crucial when carrying bags of soil up one or more flights of stairs. I put saucers under each one to catch any drainage.
As I set the plants in place, I allowed for how much space they would take when fully grown. Tomatoes, for instance, needed a wide berth, but the jalapeno peppers would be more compact.
I quickly discovered that this garden, like any other, would bring its own share of problems as well as pleasures. The peas did not enjoy the unusually moist and chill spring air, and they succumbed to some kind of mold.
Heat and exposure proved to be deterrents, too. The balcony was too hot for the lettuce, and it wilted, even with diligent watering. Tiny green caterpillars appeared on the tomatoes, and aphids roosted in the strawberries.
These problems were, I discovered, not insurmountable. I moved the lettuce indoors, where it did well. The aphids did not nibble on anything, and the caterpillars could be eradicated by either plucking them off the stems or using a safe insecticide soap, available at garden centers.
As it grew, the garden required more water. Mindful of the drought, I filled the watering can with the water that ran while warming up the shower. One full can was enough to soak the whole garden, and one watering a day kept everything thriving.
There was little other work that had to be done. Occasionally, I rearranged the containers, but there was no back-breaking weeding that comes with a huge country garden.
The first harvest occurred about 45 days after planting. The lettuce, carrots, onions, basil and cilantro ripened quickest. All had much fuller tastes than their store-bought counterparts; the lettuce was even a bit tangy, which was a pleasant surprise.
Soon after the first salad, the peppers, tomatoes and strawberries bloomed, and the jalapeno pepper matured. By August, the garden yielded a constant parade of produce, enjoyed by both the gardener and friends.
In fact, my apartment garden also started a trend. A friend who lives in a ground-floor apartment cleared some dead growth from a small plot of land behind his building and planted corn, radishes, peppers and pumpkins.
Several other friends adopted pepper and other plants from me and enjoyed their own home-grown veggies. Even the least confident gardener became a cheerful “green thumb,” and all felt the same excitement at watching their gardens grow.
Besides the obvious satisfaction of having tasty, fresh vegetables at hand, growing an apartment garden was a great way to re-establish contact with nature in the middle of a concrete urban jungle, and to gain valuable perspective. As some farmers wisely say, “Sometimes you just have to kick back and listen to the crops grow.”
