Are your windowsills covered in seedlings? Photograph: jspatchwork/Flickr/Some rights reserved
I have finally got round to sowing my tomato, aubergine and pepper seeds. It's not that late, really, I suppose, but I have a greenhouse now: I could have done it weeks ago and been in line for really early crops. Perhaps I am still on pre-greenhouse time.
But I am off to an alarmingly good start, now that I am finally going. I spoke to Kate McEvoy of Real Seeds recently, and she told me to start peppers, tomatoes, aubergines, courgettes and winter squash on wet kitchen towels in a heated propagator. A sunny windowsill is ok once they've germinated, but to kick them into life, they need more.
I did as she said and the results were startling. A few hours in I'm sure I could see them visibly swelling. They were powerless to resist germination in that cosy, humid little world. There are drawbacks though, to 100% germination within 48 hours, one of which is that I was completely unprepared for the next stage. Some of the seedlings gave up hoping for more sustenance and embedded themselves into the tissue, so I had to tear round them and plant the whole lot, tissue and all. You have to catch 'em just after germination, to keep this technique simple.
I am slightly conflicted about the whole seed sowing process. I didn't sow a single seed of any tender crop last year and I didn't miss it one bit. Can I admit that? I understand the raptures about the 'magic of sowing seed' and the 'thrill of the first green shoot', I really do. But for me it is a matter of equipment. If you've got it, it's fun. If you haven't, it's a nightmare.
The first bit is always good: you sow your seed in a couple of seed trays and up they come, all magical and life affirming. Delightful. But then comes the requisitioning of all windowsills, the exponential expansion as each needs its own pot, the twice daily shipping inside and out when they get leggy, the forgetting about them and letting them catch a late frost ...
So last year I avoided the whole palaver and bought the exact number I needed from Delfland Nurseries. In fact, I've done it in varying degrees over the last few years. It's a cheat, but at busy times something's got to give, and for me seed sowing has been more hassle than magic. But now I am suitably equipped (propagator, greenhouse, no cold frame yet, but it's on its way) and the excuses have to stop. I am back in the fray. And yes, I do – temporarily, you understand – have a windowsill full of seedlings to prove it.
