A wet October afternoon. Too wet for planned seaweed-feeding. Too wet to walk on the soil. A time to stay indoors and to think about spring and seed.
There are bowls and dishes and plates of seed cluttering the bookshelves; a large dish of dried bean pods in the kitchen (not to mention stashes downstairs).
I am starting to have fantasies about sieving trays. It’s somehow easy to get lost looking on YouTube. There is also an old machine I obviously don’t need on eBay, though I am close to longing for a riddle or a winnowing basket…
I have a pile of chard seed unsorted from last year. There is a large tray of coriander seed that needs clearing and cleaning. It is a long afternoon so I sort through dried leaf and dust. After a few goes it is good enough for now. Some I will give to Howard. Half I’ll cook with – it is a cilantro seed from the Beans and Herbs company – intensely fragrant. The rest I will share and sow next year.
Beans and peas are easier. The pods are crisp, so I break them on to a large plate, sort through the varieties. I have Gold of Bacau (sometimes called Aurie de Bacau), a fat and buttery French bean, perhaps my favourite ever. There are Cherokee Trail of Tears (ours is purple-podded), first given to me 12 years ago and fiercely prolific. Also Blauhilde, a reliable blue bean, and a speckled Haricot de Paysannes. There are saved Basque Tear Peas, too, an obsession with me.
Lastly, orange and yellow calendula seed, single-petalled, all pure colour, looking like flower fossils. I keep seed in envelopes, or plastic bags if I am sure they are dry. I don’t store them in the fridge at 5C as many advise, but rely on an unheated room. By the end of my wet, wintry afternoon I am more ready for spring.
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