Guide to transplanting
Spring sprouting is up to full speed in my greenhouse and garden which means, ready or not, it is transplant season. By ready, I mean the transplant destinations will have been prepared, doctored, fussed over and respectfully listened to. Failure to address this part of transplanting might result in mediocre performance come July or August.
I mention this because I wonder how I would have done if I had grown up in an impoverished environment with inadequate nutrition compared to similar life forms on the other side of the path. Would I be the sparkling example of humanity I have become? Maybe not, and it points out success in life might depend on which neighborhood you grow up in.
So, we will address transplanting seedlings from infrastructure appraisal through seedling selection, tool usage, attitude and follow along. Some of this discussion will be technical out of necessity, including the use of scientific terms such as root ball, spoon, scoop and drizzle.
Neither the USDA nor anyone else with initials reviewed this report.
Some transplants prefer full sun, and some seedlings are more adaptable than others in this regard, and it matters over a full season. Lettuce and spinach will not abide bright sun in hot weather, and potatoes can put up with semi-shaded areas. Strawberries appreciate slightly acidic soil which would inhibit the performance of potatoes, so the location sub-committee needs to compare notes and cross-reference things to achieve maximum whatever it is when folks get it right.
Some greenhouse seedlings sprout quickly and burst forth asking to be put into the garden, but it would be a mistake to transplant too early. All of us lost a few plants in the late April cold snap, plus the ground needs to warm up or the plants won’t take off yet.
When the ground is warm enough, take inventory of your seedlings. I wait until they have their second or third pairs of leaves. If only the first leaves are showing, the plant might be ready for a bigger pot but not the garden.
I had three Aunt Ruby’s German Green tomato seedlings really ready to find their summer homes. I gathered the following tools with which to execute the mission: one spoon, one fork (as a backup just in case), and a trowel. The afternoon was overcast and cooler than usual, and my pants kept slipping down. Am I losing weight?
At the predetermined location, the trowel scooped a hole barely bigger than a big lemon. The soil was friable and easy to work with. The spoon and I gently convinced the Aunt Ruby on the right to kindly separate from its birthplace in the tray and settle into its landing spot where it will spend its life. By November, it will have done its job.
Sometimes, when seedlings are crowded, the best you can do is carefully separate a bare-root seedling away from the clump, and it is best to hold only a leaf, not the stem, to tug the plant away. The plant can grow more leaves, not stems.
With my pants repositioned and my new ward for the season in its prepared space, I gathered loose soil around her like a blanket around my cat. I gently drizzled Aunt Ruby, not the cat, with water to settle her in. Aunt Ruby, and soon her sisters and cousins and all the others, will depend on me for care during their summer on earth.
I often cover new transplants with a hat for the first day or two because my rocky plateau is windy. By hat, I mean an old plastic juice jug cut in half.
The follow-up will be to pull my pants up, weed when needed, feed sometimes, mulch like I mean it and show up on time with water all season… a satisfying obligation.