Buying The Farm

Torontoist gives a tutorial on cold frames and cloches for winter edibles.

Salad greens thrive in an environment of about 15°C with six hours of sunlight per day, actually developing more flavour and crispness when their thin leaves aren’t exhausted by full days of sun. Parsnips, carrots, Brussels sprouts, asparagus, broccoli, and cabbage are also able to withstand some frost. But when snow blankets the city and these greens aren’t protected, they bail. A gardener can manipulate the season and make the most of their locale with a greenhouse. While a rooftop garden misses out on the heat from the ground, a greenhouse helps grab warmth from the sun and the building below it. But you don’t need to build a greenhouse to create your own microclimate. There are a few DIY devices that work by collecting heat from surrounding sources—a crucial part of low-impact winterizing.

http://torontoist.com/2011/11/freshness-in-frosty-times/

The onset of nice weather always encourages us Torontonians, groundhog-like, to crawl out of our holes and stand, blinking and wary, in the sunshine. The wariness comes, of course, from the fact that April weather is usually a fickle temptress: I was lured out for a walk last week in a tshirt, and wound up hot-footing (and cold-arming) it home when the temperature dropped 10°C in little more than a half-hour.

Properly equipped with a good jacket and a stowable umbrella, it is possible to get out and take advantage of the amenities our big city has to offer. The other week, I noticed an event listing at a library which, while not close by, was at least on my bus route, and was more than worth the distance traveled and fickle-weathered walk to and from the venue.

Ken Brown is a jovial speaker, and a backyard gardener par excellence. His talk that night was titled “Vertical Vegetables”, and that alone was enough to pique the interest of ones, like me, who have more garden space up than they have garden space out. Ken showed pictures of his garden that chronicle his failures and successes (there were far more of the latter) at getting things to grow.

Ken’s a practical type, and his eagerness to see what will work is inspiring, if initially surprising. A jerry-built “trellis” composed of an upright beam crowned with a circle of copper, from which trailed jute twine for plant support was aesthetically questionable in the early spring photo, but there was no debating its beauty in full summer, when his circle of pea plants and morning glories was in full, thick, lush bloom.

His story of a 10″ pot for fingerlings that put out 15KG of gourmet potatoes in the fall got me wondering if I could pull off such a feat in my tiny window garden. I’m chitting some supermarket fingerlings now to see if I can replicate Ken’s idea.

His website, Gardening Enjoyed isn’t quite as user-friendly as his talk, but like the 10″ pot, it is chock full of goodness for those willing to dig into its digital loam.

One of the few things I will sorely miss when I finally leave Toronto is the marvellous Toronto Public Library. The holdings are huge, and items can be ordered online and delivered to local branches for free. Its a rare thing when the catalogue lets me down, but I went into my search for Superbia! with little hope of its availability. Imagine my surprise to have a copy delivered to me within a few days. And imagine my joy to find the book was even more inspiring than I’d anticipated.

Be careful with this book: Its enthusiasm is contagious! The authors approach a topic that is the bane of eco-warriors with a pragmatism that is sadly lacking in much of the environmental movement: While new development can be done with an eye to green building, existing suburbs are entrenched, so we might as well work with what we’ve got.

And what work can be done if we put our minds to it! The authors lay out a series of steps undertaken by a fictional neighbourhood that start with small efforts and eventually lead to an actual community. The fictional aspect does gloss over some of the real-life problems (e.g. legalities, problem neighbours, and plain old human stubbornness) that would probably add friction to a path mainly depicted here as self-lubricating, but there’s no denying it helps build excitement in the reader, and show that even small steps can lead to big strides.

The idea of community-building is intoxicating to a pragmatist such as myself. Being able to pool resources such as cars, lawnmowers, toys and tools opens up space both in one’s home and one’s wallet. Being able to pool talent opens up possibilities and creativity in one’s neighbourhood. The Utopian community depicted in the book features a fenceless backyards transformed into gardens, a shared house where rooms are let out as home offices and weekly potlucks keep the residents close, and a labour exchange so an hour of babysitting can be traded for some renovation work, web design, or whatever other goods and services can be offered.

North American suburbs have a reputation – not unfounded – for being airless, unfriendly and sterile, but the colourful, vivacious and open community depicted in the book makes me feel right at home.