Last year, I was late to the gardening party. I’m often late to parties, but since last year there were none to go to IRL, I joined the bandwagon and decided to try vegetable gardening for the first time EVAR. I didn’t know what I was doing (and still don’t), but I accidentally ended up with a pretty bountiful crop of veggies, fruits & herbs.

This was very much despite not knowing my ass from a raised-bed garden this time last year.

My first-ever vegetable garden in May 2020. It was off to a late start…

Last year, I got on the (metaphorical) gardening train way too late for seeds, although I did have some luck with some of of mine that even vegetables. Mostly, this involved buying a LOT of “starts” (which, this time last year, I didn’t know was what you call the little seedlings they sell in packs of four).

This year, I’m all about the seedlings. Here in the Seattle, we have one of the shortest growing seasons in the continental US. If you’ve ever been to Earth, you’re probably aware that Seattle is frequently overcast.

A savvy local meteorologist could just plug in “46 degrees with a chance of rain!” into a spreadsheet for every day between November and May, and take off to a vacation home in St. Barthes. They’d almost certainly keep their job, because literally nobody would notice.

But I digress. Seeds! Seeds! MOAR SEEDS!

Instead, this year, I’ve gotten on the ball and have turned the dining room into a Plant Neonatal Center.

Last weekend, on a whim, I picked up a Jiffy Seed Starting Greenhouse Kit at Lowe’s, where I went to buy compost and soil. Lowe’s, like Ikea or Target, is one of those places where you go to save money to get, say, one curtain rod, but you leave with a minimum of $200 worth of things you previously didn’t know existed and/or that have names you can’t pronounce.

So it was with the seed starting peat pods. My “gateway kit” was 16 large pods that are 55mm each. (The company is Canadian, so they don’t know how to say “about two inches,” but if they did, I bet they’d say “abooot two inches,” and it would be adorable; also, it’s about two inches).

To clarify– this is a “greenhouse” in the way that the plastic bag you take your new goldfish home in is a “tropical aquarium.” It looks like something a caterer might put a large lasagna in to transport it. The peat pellets could be used with anything similar, but but the kit wasn’t much more than buying the pellets by themselves, and I figure I can reuse this with the refill pellets for the next round (assuming all goes well).

Here’s how it works: You fill the pods with water, and they puff up until they resemble something Homer Simpson would chase in a dream sequence. At that point, you rip back the netting, and plant your seeds. Then you put the plastic lid back on the tray.

On March 7, I started the first 16, then went back to buy the 72 pod version with 36mm pellets. I planted an assortment of crazy hot peppers in the first batch, and peppers and lettuce in the second.

None of the peppers have sprouted yet, but all of the lettuce seeds have!

loose-leaf lettuce seedlings five days after planting
Italianisher loose-leaf lettuce sprouts only five days after planting!
Lettuce Seeds
“Italianisher” Loose-Leaf lettuce. Ready in 55 days!

The seeds are “Italianisher” Loose-Leaf Lettuce from Territorial Seed Company. I committed what is apparently a Cardinal Gardening Sin, and used seeds I had left over from last year, but they seem fine **shrug**, and I’m all about embracing the imperfections in gardening. (On that note, yes, the seed package is dirty, and I’ve had my hands in dirt all day and have dirt under my nails. **even longer shrug***)

I planted this lettuce in late summer last year, and it really was a super-quick, amateur-proof vegetable that will make you feel like you know what you’re doing, and you can feel quite smug when you post the pictures on social media and pretend you’ve always had a green thumb, and that you’re the kind of person who would never, have dirt under your nails.