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Plant and forget gardening: plants are your friend

Plant and forget gardening: plants are your friend

This year, we were traveling for about two months out of in the growing season. During that time, our gardens fended for themselves, yet still produced a lot of food for us. They had no watering, and the only weeding of note we did was trimming back a mis-timed cover crop and pulling out some buttercups.

Despite the low input we have gotten more kale than we can eat, cucumbers, tomatoes, raspberries and blackberries, garlic, beets, collard greens,tomatillos, and more.

I’m going to write a series of posts about how we did this. What worked, what didn’t and what we’ve learned for the next seasons. We’ll go over soil, dealing with pests, how to get away with not watering, and other topics. Starting off, we’ll talk about…

Choosing low-maintenance plants

Simply choosing what plants you will focus on can go a long way towards reducing the amount of work you need to do in your garden. Some substitutions require a little adaptation in your palate — like kale for spinach, or yellow tomatillos for tomatoes. But some substitutions are more or less direct — like Climbing Spinach instead of Spinach.

Kale versus lettuce

The MVP for us this year has definitely been the kale — I got seeds for a variety that grows very well here. I literally scattered them on a garden bed and didn’t even tamp them down, and the plants have grown full and have yielded more than we are capable of eating. They are easily outgrowing whatever slug or worm damage they get. This is great!

Planting took about 2 minutes, and aside of that the only work has been harvesting. This is about as low-maintenance as it gets.

Contrast this with lettuce. Lettuce is fun to grow, and tasty to eat. But if that was where the greens in my garden came from? It would have been a lot more work this year. Multiple plantings, likely need for water, likely greater pest damage. And I would have had to weed them a lot more, as well.

If you really like lettuce on your sandwiches and find kale has too strong a flavor, you could plant a Linden tree. Yes, a tree. I haven’t tried it yet, but the leaves are edible cooked or raw, and supposedly do a fine job replacing lettuce on a sandwich. And which is easier to grow: lettuce, or a tree?

Climbing Spinach vs Spinach

I haven’t grown Climbing Spinach yet (also called Caucasian Spinach, because it is from the Caucasus mountains). However, I’m getting seeds to grow it next year, so I feel like I can write about it here. : )

This plant has leaves you can eat that taste fairly much like Spinach. However, instead of being grown and harvested as young sprouts, this plant is a vigorous perennial vine. Plant once, and harvest for many, many seasons. And spinach must be planted in the cool seasons: around here, that means you get a spring crop, nothing in the summer, and then a fall crop.

With Climbing Spinach, it starts producing edible shoots in early spring before spinach would even be ready, and then bears leaves all the way through summer into the fall. In addition, because it is grown as a perennial, it can get a well-established root system, which means it will be a lot more tolerant to growing purely from rainfall, without needing irrigation.

If you want something spinach-y, Climbing Spinach achieves the goal with waaaaay less work. You could even ignore it for a year, come back, and harvest the next year.

And more. Many more…

Do you grow onions? Try potato onions instead — they are a little smaller, but much easier to grow. Do you like collard greens? Grow a collard tree instead, it is exactly the same, but bigger and it lives for 20 years or more. Do you like tomatoes? It isn’t widely known, but if you let tomatillos ripen they turn yellow and taste a lot like a pear tomato, but they come individually wrapped in paper husks so you can harvest them after they have fallen on the ground and they won’t be mushy or moldy. So add some tomatillos to your garden, and you instantly gain leeway.

I could go on and on about substitutions you can make that allow you to get pretty darn close to a gardening process of plant -> neglect -> harvest abundant yield, but I’ll stop for now.

Bonus tip: Save your seeds.


The kale that has grown so magnificently this year, despite having as much care as a weed in a field — came from seeds a friend gave. He got the seeds from another friend. They both live in this area. Those seeds have been bred to resist the pests here, and to do well with the climate. Not by any fancy program, just by these two people saving seeds from the plants that managed to grow successfully in their garden. If I had just bought kale seed from a catalog, I doubt it would have done nearly as well.

I planted a couple dozen squash and pumpkin seeds in a nursery bed this spring. With one exception, all of those seedlings were obliterated by slugs. One of them was unaffected. It has since grown into one of the happiest, most vigorous squash/pumpkin plants I’ve seen. It has no evidence of slug damage at all, but what it does have is fairly prickly little spines. I think that kept the slugs away. In any case, I’m going to save seed from it, and that’ll be a cornerstone of my squash plants for future years.

The point is that you can substitute one kind of plant for another (climbing spinach for spinach), and you can also very often find or easily select for varieties that will be so much less demanding in your particular area.


Say you have a dry summer like we do in the west. If you grow your plants without irrigation, they will tune their response to the water stress by turning on certain genes and turning off others. Some of these changes they can pass on to their seeds. In one generation, with no selection by you, your plants can become better adapted not just to your region, but to your own garden and your own gardening style. Obtaining seeds from a catalog or an exchange is fine when you are acquiring a new variety — but if you want your plants to be able to help out in the garden and save you some work, you want them to be tailored to your own conditions.


If you do some research upfront when choosing plants for your garden, you can take an enormous leap towards a plant and forget garden. And if you save seeds, you get even further. If you are around here, feel free to ask me for tips on any of this and I’ll talk your ear off and probably give you a bunch of seeds, too.

Are there any high-maintenance plants you grow that you would like to be able to plant and forget?


Twists on some ordinary crops

Twists on some ordinary crops

Tree collards, potato onions, perennial wheat, potatoes and garlic from seeds, and Douglas Fir, Cedar, and Western Hemlock all have a place in our food garden this year. These all are familiar, with a twist. We’ll be sharing seeds, starts, and cuttings if you want any. Just let me know, and when I have extras I’ll give them to you. By the end of this season we should have a lot of seeds, tubers, cuttings and more to share.

Alrighty, on to the details…

Perennial wheat


In some ways this is a very plain crop. Wheat is one of the most prominent staples in all of human history. The twist is that it is perennial, not annual. We will plant it, and the plants that survive the first year will form clumps and keep coming back year after year after year. The reason we’re growing this is because first, I want to grow at least a little bit of all the foods we eat. There are many reasons for growing the perennial strain. Perennials have deeper and longer-lived roots than annuals. This helps build a more permanent, complex soil and lets the crops access nutrients and water that are deeper down. They should be a more stable crop through difficult years, especially through dry summers.

The perennial in the below picture isn’t the same as what I’m growing, but hopefully the result will be similar:

Compare the huge roots of the perennial to the tiny ones of the annual.
Compare the huge roots of the perennial to the tiny ones of the annual. Photo by Dehaan – Jerry Glover, CC BY 3.0 [source]
Also, it saves the work of having to replant every year, and means we don’t need to reserve as much of the crop for seed. And leaving the straw standing will provide for nice beetle banks throughout the garden to help keep slugs and other pests from eating the vegetables.

I got this from Caleb Warnock’s Renaissance Seeds.

Potatoes and garlic from seed



Potatoes and garlic are almost always propagated clonally. You plant a clove of garlic, or a chunk of a potato that has a few eyes on it. This is convenient because the crop turns out genetically identical to the planting material, so you know exactly what you will get. Where this is not so great is that you have no genetic diversity. If conditions change, or pests come along, your entire crop can easily be wiped out. Also, just like with annual wheat, you have to reserve a significant fraction of your yield for planting the next year.

The twist here is that garlic and potatoes can be grown from seeds formed from flowes. If we have seeds, we can eat the whole crop if we want to (although we probably will still leave some in the ground for the next year). The genetic diversity and crossings over will help them adapt to our location. And in a sense, every seed I plant of garlic and potato will be a variety never before grown. It’ll be fun to dig them up and see what grew.

I got these from Joseph Lofthouse.

Tree collards


We like collard greens at our house, and the twist here is growing them as a perennial tree, rather than an annual plant. Or at least if not a tree, hopefully a roughly 6-12 foot tall shrub. This should produce a lot of greens with a small footprint, and will probably be harvestable year round in our climate. We’ll see!

It doesn’t often produce seed, and from what I gather the seed either doesn’t come true or is infertile, so it is propagated by cuttings. If I can ever get mine to flower I’ll see what I can do about breeding some out. That’s a project for the future…

I got these from a seller on eBay. Just search for “tree collards”, there are a number of options.

Potato onions

These were a variety of onion popular with homesteaders of old, but are less convenient for machine harvesting so they fell out of common use with the industrialization of onion fields. They are onions, with the twist that they divide like garlic. This means that instead of needing to go through a biennial cycle to get seeds, and then trying to get starts from seeds, you can simply leave part of the harvest in the ground as seed for the next year. Yet they do grow readily from seed, so that can also be done to keep adaptation moving forward.

This may seem a bit at odds with what I said about growing garlic and potatoes from seed. One difference is that these are easily and regularly grown from seed, so they are not a mono-clonal population to begin with. Maybe the more important and fundamental difference, though, is opening up options. If I can grow things from seed, or clonally, then I can do both. I can keep the genetic diversity high, and adaptation moving forward, and also have underground roots, tubers, and bulbs ready to spring out.

I also got these from Caleb Warnock: potato onions.

Hemlock, red cedar and Douglas fir

The twist here is regarding these as foodcrops, rather than lumber.

It’s cheating a little bit to include these as foodcrops – but only a little. We’ve got a few of these trees on our property, and they provide a lot of benefit. They provide habitat, fresh air, and shade for cool summer breezes. They also hog a lot of sunlight, and perform a lot of photosynthesis whose products get locked up in cellulose. Bah.


But here’s one weird old trick for eating cellulose: feed it to mushrooms. Conifers are the preferred food for different kinds of tasty mushrooms, and when these trees are ready to shuffle off their mortal coil, we’ll simply inoculate their stumps and maybe some of their branches, and enjoy the product of all that sunshine they kept from the vegetables. Probably fried with garlic.

It may seem strange to think of eating our trees. But that is more or less what we do when we eat mushrooms. And if that is the case, it isn’t too far off to look at them, and consider them a crop. It is a humbling privilege to be stewarding a crop in our garden that has been there for decades already, and won’t be ready for harvest for decades or a century yet. And besides, this gives me a good answer when my kids point at a tree and ask if we can eat it.

I got these when we got our place…

Last week I mentioned a talk by Larry Korn that I was planning to attend. I did indeed go, and it was fantastic. I’ll have the notes for that in an upcoming post.