Selfwatering containers are gold...

To the right a perfectly healthy garden, to the left no Alaska Scarlet seedlings

Yesterday I donated blood for the first time in my life and I feel tired, much to my own surprise. Somehow I always think that things that are stressfull to the body wont affect me. After all I lost half a liter of blood (a pint) and was entitled to chose a small gift. Unfortunately the donors' giftshop doesn't have containers and other gardening related items, so I got myself a steel thermos instead. I've always needed a thermos free from tea and coffee residues. Now I can drink my hot water in a more environmentaly friendly way since I can boil and save a bigger amount at the time.

To celebrate my valiant sacrifice to humanity I went to the library and borrowed books about composting. I meant to borrow one - as you may remember my ration is one gardening book and one language course, but the first composting book I found was rather thin. After a small quest I found two more that were thin too. When I realised that I wont be able to visit the library two weeks from now I kind of lost it. I borrowed all the books about composting and four more. Plus a language course.

My gardens have been neglected these last two days. I'm sitting in the sofa corner feeling good, faint and beautiful. They're fine anyway. The selfwatering containers are doing an outstanding job. On the other hand my Alaska Scarlet won't raise above the soil. When I soaked nasturtium seeds they've grown in about two days, now I've waited for five. That's a big difference. The most frustrating thing about it is that the osmocote balls looks exactly like a seedling trying to get above the surface. I confuse them every time I take a peek into the container.

Don't forget to vote in the poll on what I should grow in my giant terracotta pot. Interestingly enough the standings are the same on Parkettodlaren and Indoor Gardener. In both polls the strawberries for the kiddo takes the lead.

Tiger nut haircut

First a photo from my own balcony. It's more minimalistic than the french balcony I showed you a couple of days ago. I had other things to do in April and May when I normally plan and plant my outdoor stuff. The strawberries had survived the winter and the pansies were coming along nice, so I decided to stay content. Right now I think it's boring and am planning the autumn and next summer (wine or blackberry, hmmmmmmm...). The chair is a gift from the company where my hubby works right now. They gave him two for the summer, and since they seemed to match the balcony I left them there. (If anyone from this company reads this I wouldn't be ungrateful if you decided to give us a complimentary folding table ;-) )

Today I made some major works on the garden haunted by thrips. After three weeks of treatment with soft soap spray it looked like this.


The common purslane had turned quite old and the nasturtium seemed to consist of withered leaves, eventhough green ones where budding at the end of the branches. The only things thriving was the tiger nuts, so I decided to tear everything away except them.


It's a shame throwing away such big heap of things that would do better in a compost. The longer I'm working with indoor gardening, the more I feel the need for composting. Unfortunately my flat often is too warm for a vermicompost, so I've started to look for ways to use a real one indoors instead. Colleens (In the Garden Online) variety seems promising, eventhough I have a feeling I'll have to store it on the balcony. (Since there are flats without balconies I feel like it's cheeting using mine.)


I gave the tiger nuts a haircut too. They looked like a dull tuss of grass (and that's what they are) so I decided to spiff them up a bit. Don't you think this hairdo looks nicer on the windowsill? I'm not sure the plants will survive the stress being cut down like this but the prognosis is good; tiger nut is a weed to fear. In the rest of the soil I sowed the last of my Alaska Scarlet nasturtium seeds. This time I didn't put up with 'frills' like putting seeds in water 24 hours and presow them, I just put them into the soil and covered them up. The last thing I did was to sprinkle osmocote tab fragments over the surface, and then realisie that they looked edible. I spent quite some time trying to cover them up without disturbing the seeds (twoyearold in da house...).


I took this picture to show how I've started to document my cultivations. I'm not sure on what to do with the facts gathered, or if I should copy them to something else, like a notebook. These days I'm only documenting to get a feeling for how long it takes between sowing and harvesting and how different kinds of soil and fertilizing are affecting the plants. (I haven't made a note on this box, but I do know that this contains the cheap seedling soil that packs together and suffocates the plants if I'm not keeping it moist.) Note the green line between the dry and the wet part of the barrier between the soil and the leca; it's algae. This is the last time I fluff the soil, sow some stuff and tell myself it's gonna work. The next time I'll have to empty the box, sterilize everything and start a new garden from scratch. This is something that will be an indoor gardener routine.

Indoor compost

This picture is called "Still life with compost", photografer is Kevin Saff,
you find more of his photos here, and can read his blog here.

There are people composting indoors, usually using a vermicomposting system. One of my friends and her mother deported their vermicompost to the furthermost corner of their terrace house garden when it started to stink. They are more of romantics than practically inclined, which makes me suspect that they didn't care for it in the right way. Knowledgeable people reassures that a working vermicompost don't stink. Hm.

In the long run I'm planning to try it out, but not before I've did some more studying on the subject. Perhaps I'd better start this summer, when it's possible to place the entire thing on the balcony while I figure out how to tend to it. But it doesn't seems so hard. You use three containers to be able to exchange composting bins in a steady pace, leaves a wet newspaper for the little worms to live in when you start up the compost, and then you only add as much waste as they are able to eat. Appart from citrus peals, almost everything seems to fit inside.

Keep your fingers crossed for me when I start...