Starting a Garden From Quarantine

If COVID-19 causes a full lockdown, can I still start growing food? What if I can’t go to any stores? What if I can’t even get deliveries?

These are the questions I’ve been asking myself obsessively as our long-awaited move from Toronto to rural Parry Sound approaches… right in the middle of a global pandemic. This should be the perfect time to start growing our own food in earnest, but access to materials could be a very real problem if we enter a full lockdown. It will certainly be a temporary problem, since we plan to quarantine ourselves upon arrival rather than risk carrying the virus to a new region. 

Not knowing what scenario to plan for has been making my head spin, so I finally decided to plan for the worst. And do you know what? I have a lot more resources than I expected. You probably do too.

If I have some limited shopping ability…

Rows of paper seed packets from the company Urban Harvest are labelled with names and images for vegetable and edible flowers.

…I have a short list of priorities.

Seeds are at the top of it. It’s already April, so I will focus on short-season crops—if I want long-season plants like tomatoes and peppers and melons I will have to get my hands on some greenhouse-grown seedlings. I’d still also like to get potted herbs, since propagating by cuttings will be faster than starting from scratch now. And if I could choose just one bulk material it would be a nice finished compost that I can use as a mulch on top of my yard’s existing soil. I also wouldn’t say no to a spade. Everything else—pots, building supplies, tools, plant markers—can be improvised. 

If I don’t have potting soil…

…I can use what’s on the ground outside

I know it isn’t perfect. Potting soil sells well for a reason, because it makes growing in containers easier. It’s light and porous, which allows air and moisture to move through it easily. Heavier soil might retain water for too long, which can foster the growth of moulds and fungi. Soil from the ground will also have unknown microbes and weed seeds in it. But I’ve used it before, and it can absolutely be done.

There might be some old garden beds on the property, or some new topsoil added after recent construction work. I can scoop some soil from there, and mix in some well-decomposed leaf mould from the edge of the woods. If I’m really concerned about the weeds and microbes I can follow one of many online tutorials to sterilize my mix in the oven, but I probably won’t. Microbe communities are how plants get nutrients from the soil into their roots, so I’d hate to kill them off.

To help me make sure my intended plants get a head-start over any weed seeds, I can pre-sprout them by placing my seeds between layers of damp newspaper until the root emerges. If you use this technique, don’t try to bury the root; just place it sideways on a pot of damp soil and sprinkle more soil on top. The root will find its own way down. If I’m growing anything unfamiliar to me, I’ll research what its cotyledons (or “seed leaves”) look like when they first emerge so I’ll know the difference between it and any interlopers. They’ll get snipped off with scissors since pulling them out might disturb my plant’s root. 

To stave off mould, I’ll be careful about the moisture of my soil. If I am waiting for seeds to germinate, the soil should be consistently damp. But once I have sprouts, I can let it get nearly dry between waterings. If mould does appear, I can run a fan angled so that it just barely makes my seedlings move. If it’s warm outside, I can also kill the mould with small doses of direct sun.

If I don’t have seeds…

…I can raid the pantry

I did order seeds, but if they fail to arrive I’m not entirely stuck. The dried legumes in my kitchen are probably viable, including chickpeas and pinto beans. I can check by soaking them for a few days in a bowl of water to see if they sprout. In the early spring I can plant unsoaked legumes directly outside; they will know when conditions are right for them to germinate. Later, when the last frost has passed, I can start soaking the seeds until the roots just barely appear and planting those directly outside as well. The pre-sprouting forces faster germination, and planting in succession throughout the season will mean I have a long, consistent harvest.

…I can propagate from cuttings

Five young basil plants are growing in a square plastic pot at a window sill
These five basil plants turned into 30 after several weeks of taking cuttings

Groceries are essential goods, so I might also be able to get potted herbs if the stores get their usual stock. It’s easy to multiply a basil plant by cutting sprigs off just above a set of leaves and placing those cuttings’ stems in water until roots start forming. Then it’s just a case of gently planting them in a pot of soil. Research tells me I can use the same method with stevia, mint, lemon balm oregano, rosemary, sage, and thyme. In the case of the last four, I’ll have to be careful to choose the green pliable stems and not the older woody ones. 

If I don’t have pots…

…I can make or repurpose them

Any container can be a pot if it permits drainage. Most of the time that means putting holes in the bottom. Sometimes it means using a porous material like egg cartons, newspaper, or other pressed plant fibres. Once I grew so many basil cuttings that I had to resort to glass jars from my recycling even though I couldn’t put holes in them. I filled the bottoms with crumpled cardboard scraps and left big air pockets so that water had a place to drain away. It worked, but getting the seedlings out of the jars was a pain.

A tray of homemade newspaper pots are filled with potting soil
Paper pots made from old newspapers

In my moving-to-a-new-home scenario I won’t have a full recycling bin to raid, but I’ll have lots of packing paper to repurpose. Making paper pots is satisfying, and it makes transplanting a breeze since you can just unfold the bottom and pop the whole thing into the soil. 

If I don’t have garden soil…

…I can enhance the existing soil with mulch

It will be a slower process than adding a load of soil from the garden centre, but mulching deeply and consistently is a Mother Nature-approved method of creating rich, beautiful soil over time. It might be possible to get someone to dump a load of wood chips or rotted manure on my property even during a lockdown. Failing that, I can scrounge leaf mold, tear up packing paper or newspapers, or flatten out my moving boxes and cut holes where my plants should poke through. Since the paper and cardboard are lightweight, I will have to water well until they start to decompose. 

Compost from kitchen scraps and garden cuttings will also be a big help. I can make a traditional compost pile or try trench composting, where fruit and veggie scraps are buried in the garden alongside rows of plants. 

If I don’t have building supplies…

…I can use tree branches

To be honest, I plan to do this anyway. Why spend money on lumber when making wattle raised beds is so much fun? The technique involves driving sturdy sticks into the ground—I’ll leave them sticking up about a foot—and weaving whippier twigs back and forth among them until the whole thing looks like a wicker basket. Of course, raised beds may not be in order if I can’t get added soil, but wattle also makes great fences and windbreaks.

Fallen tree branches have been stacked log-cabin style and lashed together with strips of cloth to create a square compost container, which contains dead leaves and food scraps
Strips of cloth secure this homemade compost bin

Sticks will also be my friends for making trellises. I even know how to make thin rope from plant fibres if I need something to assemble them, but that probably won’t be necessary. I was lamenting my lack of twine until I realized that strips cut from old clothing will tie things together just fine. 

And if I stop and think about it…

…there are some things about isolating at home that will make gardening even better.

  1. I can move my seedlings from an eastern window in the morning to a western window in the afternoon, so they will get lots of light.
  2. I can water or do any other quick garden chore at any time of day.
  3. I can protect my garden from a sudden turn in the weather.
  4. When I take a break from my computer, the garden will be a much healthier place to be than the snack aisle across the street from the office.

Writing this list was a soothing exercise for me at a time when so many anxieties are converging. If you are also filled with worry, I can highly recommend it: sit down, pick up a pen, and write out your resources. You might find, like I did, that they are bountiful after all.