Garden Helper

Yesterday we were back to cold, miserable, pouring down weather after two glorious days of sunshine.  I can’t say it was really warm outside on those back-to-back days – not California warm.  But it was pleasant enough for this fair-weather gardener to spend several hours getting rid of the buttercups and daylilies and the numerous other unwanteds and unknowns.  The soil was just the right consistency and, for a few minutes, I totally lost my mind.

Somehow, I decided that it must be time to plant nasturtiums.  Wrong!  But I did it, not giving thought to first soaking the seeds in warm water for twenty-four hours or, even worse, not waiting for the soil temperature to reach the recommended 70°.  The contents of four seed packets were probably totally wasted.  What an idiot.  I must have thought that the garden was experiencing some sort of greenhouse effect from this two-day surge of sunshine.

Last Year’s ‘Mastershalums’

It wasn’t until the middle of the night that I woke up with a start think about Winnie the Pooh and mastershalums and what I had done.  The Pooh Bear might not have gotten the nasturtium name quite right, but he probably was more patient about planting them.  And when he did, he was totally confident about what would result:  “…I planted it, and I’m going to have mastershalums all over the front door.”  I wish I could say the same.

              A few minutes after I had determined that I was an idiot and had wondered how I could get a handle on the soil temperature in our south garden, I did what any computer-savvy gardening simpleton would do.  I Googled soil temperatures in Washington State and found that I had probably tucked those poor little seeds into a 40° garden bed.  I am so sorry.  I have all sorts of fanciful solutions – heat strips, hot water baths, a line of sunlamps – none of which is going to happen.

Soil Map

The good news is I now know where to find out how the soil temperature is coming along.  And I also know that Kathleen Sayce will tell me an even better way — maybe I can simply stick a thermometer right into the dirt.  Mostly though, I probably need to just wait patiently.  Or maybe plant something that isn’t so fussy.  Primroses are always good.  Until the deer notice