Gerald and Mildred’s Monthly – Real PNW Gardening Advice

Mildred the Gnome’s Guide to Seed Starting in the Pacific Northwest

The Witherspoons’ April Garden Dispatch (PNW Edition)

“My dear Gerald,” said Mildred, peering over her seed trays with a cup of tea in hand, “if the sun shines one more day like this, I shall simply have to plant the tomatoes.”

Gerald, who has seen more springs than he has labeled seed packets (and that is saying something), didn’t even look up from untangling a string of sweet pea twine. “And if you do, my dear, you’ll also have to compose their obituary. This is April in the Pacific Northwest, not July in Tuscany.”

Mildred sighed. “But it’s so warm.”

“It is deceptively warm,” Gerald replied. “The soil is still sulking along below 55 degrees, and tomatoes and peppers are tropical creatures at heart. They’d rather wait indoors than shiver themselves into stunted misery.”

So let it be known, dear gardeners: now is not the time to plant out your tomatoes and peppers. Not yet. Yes, we know that Home Depot is offering them up like it is time, but it is not. Wait for that soil to reach at least 55°F, and even then, don’t rush it.

In the meantime, April offers plenty to keep your hands gloriously dirty.

Mildred gestured toward the windowsill jungle in the potting shed. “Then what are we to do with all these seedlings?”

“Ah,” said Gerald, “we pot them up and play a spirited game of ‘Where on earth shall we put them now?’”

Potting Up Season

Your tomatoes, peppers, and any other ambitious seedlings are likely outgrowing their starter cells. Give them more room to stretch their roots and build strength. Yes, this will result in your home, garage, and window sills resembling a small botanical conservatory. This is normal.

Start These Indoors Now

If you haven’t already, April is a fine time to start:

Basil (the diva of the herb world)
Cucamelons (tiny, adorable, and surprisingly assertive)
Cucumbers
Cosmos (or “cosos,” as Gerald insists on calling them just to annoy Mildred)
Marigolds

“These,” Mildred noted, “will all be quite cross if we delay further.”

Direct Sow & Plant Outdoors

Now this is where April shines in the PNW. The cool-season crops are ready and waiting:

Lettuce
Kale
Spinach
Peas
Sweet peas
Snapdragons

“Plant them with gusto,” Gerald advised. “They enjoy a bit of a chill. Unlike your tomatoes, they do not require emotional reassurance.”

Other April Wisdom from the Witherspoons

1. Harden off (but gently).
On those sunny days, give your indoor seedlings a taste of the outdoors—but start slow. A few hours at first, then gradually more. April sun can be surprisingly bossy. The Gardener starts the day by opening the greenhouse to give “her friends” some air and to keep them from overheating.

2. Watch the slugs.
“They’ve been waiting all winter,” Mildred warned darkly. “And they have plans.”

3. Feed your soil.
Add compost, amend beds, and generally treat your soil like the treasured foundation it is. Healthy soil now means fewer regrets later.

4. Succession sow.
Plant small batches of greens every couple of weeks so you aren’t drowning in lettuce all at once (though Gerald maintains this is a “pleasant problem”).

5. Keep row covers handy.
Because April will absolutely lull you into complacency and then throw in a cold night just to keep you humble. This is especially true if you get brave and plant out those tomatoes and peppers.

At last, Mildred set down her trowel. “So we wait.”

Order, Umbrellas, and Utter Botanical Chaos: A Spring Container Garden on the Deck

March 23, 2026
By Mildred the Gnome (visionary) and Mr. Carson (concerned)

“Absolutely not.”

Mr. Carson’s stone voice rang out across the back deck, as firm and immovable as the umbrella he has held aloft for the past twenty-seven seasons.

“You cannot possibly mean to add another pot, Mildred. We have achieved a symmetry. A balance. A… system.”

She patted the rim of a newly placed terracotta pot and smiled.
“My dear Mr. Carson,” I said, “what we have achieved is potential.”

Mr. Carson did not blink. Being stone, he rarely does.
“What you have achieved is clutter.”

In the Pacific Northwest, spring arrives like a polite guest, softly, damply, and with a tendency to linger. Container gardening, however, lets one get a head start without waiting for every inch of soil to cooperate.

“Containers,” Mildred explained (while sliding in just one more pot), “are delightful because they:”

Warm up faster than garden beds
Can be moved to chase the sun (or avoid a dramatic downpour)
Work beautifully on decks, patios, and small spaces
Let you grow both flowers and food right outside your door

The Deck Pot Philosophy

A proper PNW container garden should include:

Edibles for convenience (one must never be far from fresh basil)
Flowers for pollinators (and morale)
Vertical elements (to make things feel lush, not cluttered)

Mildred’s Current Struggle: The Crows

“I had sweet peas,” she muttered darkly.

Mr. Carson tilted ever so slightly. “Had?”

“The crows,” I said. “They treat my seedlings like a seasonal buffet.”

He nodded solemnly. “Barbarians.”

(We are currently exploring deterrents involving netting and strongly worded reactions.)

What Grows Beautifully in PNW Container Gardens

Below is Mildred’s carefully curated (and Mr. Carson-approved for neatness of formatting) list of excellent container plants for spring and early summer in the Pacific Northwest.

FLOWERS

Zinnia

Size: 1–3 ft tall, depending on variety
Planting Time: Start indoors March–April; transplant after last frost (April–May), or direct sow in mid-April (they love direct sow)
Notes: Bright, cheerful, and pollinator-friendly. Loves sun and well-drained soil.
Mr. Carson’s Opinion: “Acceptable. Structured.”

Sweet Pea (climbing)

Size: 4–8 ft (needs trellis) but can grow in large pot
Planting Time: Direct sow February–April
Notes: Fragrant, delicate, and apparently irresistible to crows. Pinch or don’t pinch. They aren’t fussy.
Mr. Carson’s Opinion: “If we must invite chaos, at least give it a trellis.”

Roses (patio or dwarf varieties)

Size: 1–3 ft
Planting Time: March–May
Notes: Choose compact varieties for containers. Require sun and consistent watering.
Mr. Carson’s Opinion: “Classic. Finally, something dignified.”
Mildred’s Opinion: “A lot of work, but worth it.”

EDIBLES (The “Run-Outside-While-Cooking” Collection)

Kale

Size: 1–2 ft
Planting Time: March–May
Notes: Cold-hardy and endlessly useful. Thrives in containers.

Lettuce

Size: 6–12 inches
Planting Time: March onward (succession plant!)
Notes: Quick-growing and perfect for snipping fresh leaves.

Basil

Size: 1–2 ft
Planting Time: May (after frost)
Notes: Needs warmth
Easy to start in a kitchen window.

Parsley

Size: 1 ft
Planting Time: April–May
Notes: Hardy and forgiving. A quiet overachiever.

FAVORITES WITH PERSONALITY

Pot-a-peno (Container Jalapeño)

Size: 12–18 inches
Planting Time: May (warm soil required)
Notes: Compact pepper perfect for pots. Likes heat and sun.
Mr. Carson’s Opinion: “Spicy. Concerning.”

Sungold Cherry Tomato

Size: 4–6 ft (indeterminate, needs support)
Planting Time: May
Notes: Exceptionally sweet orange tomatoes. Needs a large pot and staking.
Mr. Carson’s Opinion: “That will absolutely require a system.”

How to Make Container Gardening Work

Use high-quality potting soil (not garden soil)
Ensure good drainage (holes are not optional, Mr. Carson)
Water consistently as containers dry out faster
Feed lightly every few weeks during the growing season
Group pots by water needs (tidy and practical)

Mr. Carson perked up at “grouping.” He surveyed the deck, the pots, the trellises, and the hopeful sweet peas (under light crow surveillance).

“…We will need a map,” he said finally.

Container gardening in the PNW is not just practical, it’s a way to bring life right up to your doorstep.

Even if your doorstep is already occupied by a very tidy stone butler.

“Just one more pot,” Mildred said.

“No,” said Mr. Carson.

She set it down anyway. And truly, the ambiance improved immediately. After all, there’s always room for one more plant.

Mildred & Gerald Discuss the Annual Slug Situation

(Early spring in a Pacific Northwest garden. The soil is damp, the tulips are just peeking up, and the hostas are nervously considering their life choices.)

Gerald: Mildred… why are you standing on the garden bench with the pink camo a-salt rifle?

Mildred: What do you think I’m doing? Getting ready.

Gerald: I thought we agreed. The beer traps worked well last year. I had the Builder pick up a 24-pack of Rainier on his Costco run.

Mildred: (sighs deeply and scans the lettuce bed) They are already out there, Gerald. Already. Remember how last year we lost a whole row of cucamelons in one night?

Gerald: It was unfortunate.

Mildred: One night, Gerald. ONE. NIGHT.

Gerald: Okay, okay… calm down, Mildred. I’ll refill the a-salt rifle for you. But can we use the beer traps as well?

Mildred: Fine. But I’m keeping overwatch.

Gerald: Fair. A layered defense strategy.

Mildred: Exactly.

Gerald’s Practical Tips for Handling Slugs & Snails in a PNW Garden

1. Beer Traps Work (Especially Cheap Beer)
Slugs are attracted to yeast. Sink a shallow container so the rim is at soil level and fill it with beer. Turn a plastic pot over it upside down to keep the rain out. The slugs crawl in… and that’s the end of their garden tour.

2. Hand-Pick at Night
Take a flashlight out after dark or early in the morning when they’re active. A quick patrol can dramatically reduce numbers.

3. Remove Daytime Hiding Spots
Slugs love cool, damp hiding places like boards, dense mulch piles, overturned pots. Reduce shelter near vulnerable plants.

4. Protect Tender Seedlings
Young lettuce, hostas, dahlias, and cucamelons are basically a five-star buffet. Use collars, raised beds, or barriers when plants are small.

5. Encourage Natural Predators
Ground beetles, birds, garter snakes, frogs, and ducks all help keep slug populations down.

6. Garden Clean-Up Matters
Remove dead leaves and spent plant material where slugs like to hide and lay eggs.

What many PNW gardeners do

A common strategy is:

Sluggo pellets lightly scattered around vulnerable plants
Beer traps in high-slug zones
Night patrol with a flashlight in spring (the population control phase)

This layered approach works well during March–May, when young seedlings are most vulnerable.

Gerald: You know, Mildred, gardening is about balance.

Mildred: Balance is fine, Gerald. But if they touch the hostas…

Gerald: Yes?

Mildred: We escalate.

A Backyard Conversation: Gandalf the Mini-Aussie and Mr. Carson the Frog Butler

March 20, 2026

Good morning, Gandalf here. Yes, that Gandalf, the medium but extremely wise (and extremely fluffy) Mini-Australian Shepherd who guards the back deck with unwavering dedication, particularly when squirrels threaten the realm. Today I was conducting my usual patrol when I paused beside Mr. Carson. Mr. Carson, you see, is a frog. Or at least he appears to be one. Technically, he is a statue, but he insists on maintaining the title of Butler of the Deck. He stands near the steps in a tidy little vest, holding an umbrella that has been open since approximately 2018. He is also, regrettably, a bit grumpy.

“Mr. Carson,” I began politely, sniffing a suspicious leaf drifting across the deck, “why would humans plant things in their yard that could poison perfectly respectable dogs such as myself?”

Mr. Carson tilted his stone head slightly, as if weighing whether this question was worth answering.

“Hmph,” he croaked. “Because humans rarely think like dogs.”

“Well, that seems like a flaw in their reasoning.”

“Indeed,” he said.

I sat down and tucked my head into my paws.

“You see,” I continued, “I overheard my humans talking about toxic plants. Apparently, some yards may contain items that are, shall we say, incompatible with enthusiastic nibbling.”

Mr. Carson sighed the deep sigh of someone who has watched humans garden for many seasons.

“They don’t always know,” he said. “Many plants look beautiful but are quite dangerous for pets. Particularly here in the Pacific Northwest, where gardeners adore ornamentals.”

This seemed very alarming.

“Which ones?” I asked.

Mr. Carson cleared his throat like a butler announcing dinner.

Plants in the Pacific Northwest That Can Be Dangerous for Dogs

“First,” said Mr. Carson, “let us discuss the truly troublesome plants.”

Rhododendron & Azalea
“Very popular in the Northwest,” he said. “But every part of the plant is toxic to dogs. Eating even a small amount can cause vomiting, drooling, weakness, and heart issues.”

I blinked.

“But they’re everywhere.”

“Precisely.”

Foxglove
Tall flowers that look like fairy hats.

“Highly poisonous,” Mr. Carson warned. “Contains compounds that affect the heart. Even a nibble can be serious.”

At this point, I felt it was important to note something about our own yard.

“The Gardener actually planted foxgloves back here once,” I said.

Mr. Carson looked mildly horrified.

“In the backyard?”

“Yes. But the moment she realized they were poisonous to dogs, she marched right outside, dug them up, and moved them to the front yard.”

Mr. Carson considered this.

“A sensible compromise,” he admitted. “Foxgloves are wonderful for pollinators.”

I nodded wisely.

“Good for bees,” I said. “Bad for puppies.”

“Exactly.”

Lily of the Valley
Tiny white bell-shaped flowers.

“Extremely toxic,” he said. “Especially dangerous to cats, but dogs should avoid it entirely.”

Yew Shrubs
Common evergreen hedges in landscaping.

“Every part of the plant except the red berry flesh is toxic,” Mr. Carson explained. “And even the seeds inside the berries can cause severe heart problems.”

“That seems unnecessarily complicated,” I noted.

Daffodils
“Yes, even cheerful spring flowers,” said Mr. Carson. “The bulbs are especially poisonous and can cause vomiting, diarrhea, and lethargy.”

Hydrangea
Another Northwest favorite.

“Leaves and flowers contain compounds that can upset a dog’s stomach.”

“Humans plant those by the thousands,” I observed.

“Yes,” said Mr. Carson. “They admire the colors.”

“Are there any plants that are safe?” Gandalf asked.

Mr. Carson adjusted his umbrella.

“If the humans wish to plant responsibly,” he said, “there are many lovely options that are safer.”

Examples include:

Camellia
Magnolia
Sunflowers
Snapdragons
Ferns (most common garden varieties)
Roses

“Roses?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said. “The thorns are unpleasant, but they are not poisonous.”

“That seems fair.”

If you are concerned that your pet consumed something toxic, watch for the following:

Vomiting
Drooling
Lethargy
Diarrhea
Tremors
Difficulty walking
Loss of appetite

Contact a veterinarian or the ASPCA Animal Poison Control Center immediately.

March in the Pacific Northwest Garden: Waking the Sleeping Giants (and Gerald)

March 3, 2026

March in the Pacific Northwest is less a month and more a negotiation.

One day, the sun stretches across the garden like it means business. The next day, rain drums on the greenhouse roof while you stand inside, clutching seed packets and whispering, “Soon.”

But make no mistake, March is when the garden begins to wake up. And so must we.

Indoors: The Great Seed Starting Operation

Inside, under lights and heating mats, things are getting serious.

This is tomato month.

On my seed-starting shelves, you’ll find (Territorial Seed Company):

San Marzano – because sauce season waits for no one
Sungold – tiny golden bites of happiness
Lizzano – the tidy, reliable one
Chocolate Sprinkles – because tomatoes should occasionally sound like dessert

Tomatoes in the PNW need that head start. Our summers are glorious but not endless, and if you wait until April, you’ll be harvesting green fruit in September while sighing dramatically.

Alongside the tomatoes:

Tomatillos
Snapdragons – delicate-looking but tougher than they appear
Sweet Peas – soaking, swelling, dreaming of trellises and long June evenings
Peppers (Jalapenos, Pot-a-peno and Megatron Jalapeno)

There is something deeply hopeful about March seed starting. It feels like writing future love letters to yourself.

Outdoors: The Unheated Greenhouse Warriors

Outside, in the unheated greenhouse, the cold-weather champions are already stretching.

Mine include:

Kale
Spinach
Lettuce
Peas

They don’t need coddling. They need cool air, decent light, and a gardener willing to dash outside between rain showers. March is not about abundance yet. It’s about preparation and about trays lined up like quiet students, waiting for their moment.

It is time to wake up the garden. Apparently, it is also time to wake up Gerald the Gnome.

The Honey-Do List Summit

(Scene: The greenhouse. A faint drip of rain. Gerald is holding a mug of coffee and looking wary.)

Mildred: Gerald, have you seen the honey-do list?

Gerald: I have seen a list. It appears to be longer than the Puyallup Fair.

Mildred: It’s March.

Gerald: I was afraid you were going to say that.

Mildred: The raised beds need topping off, and the irrigation lines need checking. The trellis for the peas must go in before they stage a coup. Also, the rabbits got all the peas last year, so the Gardener wants a fence around the pea bed. Nothing fancy, just a little deterrent.

Gerald: The dahlias are still sleeping.

Mildred: Not for long. They’re plotting.

Gerald: Of course they are.

Mildred: Also, the greenhouse shelves need reinforcing.

Gerald: Because of the tomatoes?

Mildred: Because of my ambition, Gerald.

(Gerald takes a long sip of coffee.)

Gerald: Is this the year you said you were “scaling back”?

Mildred: I said I was scaling back emotionally.

Gerald: That is not how scaling works.

Mildred: The sweet peas will a trellis.

Gerald: They’re an inch tall.

Mildred: They have dreams.

Gerald: So do I. Mine involve sitting down with Mr. Carson.

The Real Work of March

March gardening in the Pacific Northwest isn’t glamorous. It’s muddy boots and soggy gloves laid over the heater vent. It’s checking the forecast hourly and pretending you’re surprised by the rain and cold.

It’s:

Cleaning up winter debris
Pruning what you forgot to prune in February
Feeding the soil and weeding (always weeding)
Turning compost
Checking for slugs (they are already plotting)

More than that, it’s shifting from dormancy to intention. You walk the beds differently in March. You see what could be there and plan. You notice where the peas will climb. Where the snapdragons will bloom and where the Sungolds will spill like sunshine.

Closing Arguments from the Greenhouse

(Later, Gerald is holding a shovel. Mildred is inspecting seedlings.)

Gerald: So let me understand this, we start seeds inside. We start seeds outside, we fix beds, we build trellises, and we amend the soil?

Mildred: Correct.

Gerald: And what do we get in return?

Mildred: Tomatoes so sweet they ruin grocery stores for you forever. Snapdragons that make you feel like you’re walking through a cottage garden in June. Peas you eat straight off the vine.

Gerald: Hm.

Mildred: Also kale.

Gerald: I was afraid you were going to say that.

March in the PNW garden is not flashy. It is hopeful, strategic, muddy, and magnificent. The garden is waking up. Whether Gerald is ready or not… so are we.

Tea with Mildred Witherspoon: A Proper Chat About Cut Flowers

Feb. 23, 2026

Mildred Witherspoon adjusts her gloves, surveys the seed packets, and sighs dramatically. “People act as though seeds are fragile little wishes,” she says. “They are not. They are instructions. You just have to read them.”

Mildred adores cut flowers, roses, dahlias, peonies, but she is particularly fond of the flowers that reward a gardener generously and for a long season. And yes, many of them are delightfully easy from seed.

Let’s talk about four of her favorites.

Sweet Peas (Lathyrus odoratus)

Mildred’s favorite for fragrance and romance. She says that they smell like hope and nostalgia.

Start indoors or outdoors?

Indoors: 6–8 weeks before last frost
Outdoors: As soon as the soil can be worked (they like cool weather)

How to grow from seed:

Soak seeds overnight before planting
Plant ½–1 inch deep
Provide support early (trellis, twine, or a hopeful fence)

Cut flower tips:

Cut often (daily if possible)
The more you cut, the more they bloom
Harvest when 2–3 flowers are open on the stem

Give them a pinch:

When the sweet pea is about six inches tall, use your fingernails to remove the main, central tip. This encourages them to grow bushier and fuller. You can also pinch a fully grown pea to remove a single vine and encourage branched growth. Give it a pinch!

Bloom season: Late spring to early summer

Current seeding plans: Old Spice Mix by Territorial Seed Company and Chocolate Sweet Peas by Chocolate Flower Farm in Langley, Washington.

Peonies (Perennial)

Mildred grows quiet here. Peonies demand respect. “You grow peonies for the future,” she says. “And for whoever inherits your garden.”

Start indoors or outdoors?

Best planted: Fall from bare root plants

Reality check (Mildred insists on honesty):

Peonies grown from seed can take 3–5 years to bloom
Most gardeners plant bare roots instead

Cut flower tips:

Harvest at the “marshmallow stage” (soft bud, just beginning to open)
Strip lower leaves
Store buds in the fridge wrapped in paper for later use

Bloom season: Late spring to early summer (short but spectacular)

Cosmos

Mildred calls these “the flower for people who overthink.” “They grow whether you fret or not, so they are great for nervous gardeners.”

Start indoors or outdoors?

Indoors: 4–6 weeks before last frost
Outdoors: After danger of frost has passed

How to grow from seed:

Barely cover seeds with soil
Do not over-fertilize (they bloom better when slightly neglected)

Cut flower tips:

Cut when flowers are just opening
Long, airy stems are perfect for loose bouquets
Regular cutting prevents legginess

Bloom season: Early summer until frost

Current Planting Plan: Chocolate Cosmos ‘CFF’ Chocolat by Chocolate Flower Farm (smells like chocolate), Double Click Mix by Territorial Seed Company

Zinnias

Mildred’s workhorse cut flower.

“If you want abundance,” she says, “you plant zinnias and stop arguing with yourself.”

Start indoors or outdoors?

Indoors: 3–4 weeks before last frost
Outdoors: After soil has warmed and frost risk is gone

How to grow from seed:

Plant ¼ inch deep
Loves heat and sun
Good airflow prevents mildew

Cut flower tips:

Perform the “wiggle test” – if the stem flops, it’s not ready
Cut above a leaf node for branching
Excellent vase life (7–10 days)

Current Planting Plan: Queen Red Lime, Art Deco mix from Territorial Seed Company

“Growing from seed isn’t difficult,” she says. “It’s just slower. And sometimes slower is exactly what we need.”

If you want:

Fragrance: Sweet peas
Legacy: Peonies
Ease: Cosmos
Abundance: Zinnias

You don’t need a greenhouse, a degree, or perfect timing, just soil, light, water, and a willingness to try.

Other things to plant: Snapdragons (Black Prince), Calendula (Strawberry blonde), Marigold (Durango Red), Nasturtium (Black velvet)

Gerald’s Grumbles from the Potting Bench: On the Noble Art of Seed Starting (and the Tragedy of Carrots in Trays)

By Gerald, Senior Garden Gnome, Seed Supervisor, Mildly Irritated Observer of Human Choices

Ah yes. That time of year. The brave (or foolhardy) among you begin rooting through seed packets like raccoons in a pantry. Envelopes are sorted, and labels are acquired. Dirt finds its way under fingernails, onto foreheads, and somehow, somehow, into mugs of tea.

I approve. Mostly.

Seed starting, when done properly, is one of the great quiet joys of gardening. When done improperly, it is a comedy of errors that I, Gerald the Gnome, am forced to witness from my post near the potting bench.

Let us begin with what you actually need, because despite what the internet would have you believe, seed starting does not require a second mortgage.

The Basics (Even I Can Agree With This List)

You need:

A basic seed tray (or pots, or yogurt cups with holes, or toilet paper rolls, don’t tell Mildred)
Seed-starting soil (not garden dirt, unless you enjoy fungus and regret)
Seeds (this seems obvious, yet here we are). Do not buy on Amazon — find a good local vendor. The Gardener loves Seattle Seed Company and Territorial Seed
Warmth (a warm room or seed-starting heat mats)
Light (grow lights, not a sunny window that lies to you)

That part? Easy. Almost suspiciously easy. Where humans falter is in the after.

The Part No One Warns You About

You must be prepared to keep these seedlings alive until they can safely go outside. That means:

Potting them up when they outgrow their trays
Watering without drowning
Feeding without burning
And, this is critical, waiting until the weather stops lying. Do not fall for false spring.

Seedlings are like toddlers. They need structure, snacks, naps, and protection from sudden cold snaps.

And for the love of compost, know this:
Some things need to be started outside.

Carrots, for example.

I once saw The Gardener attempt to transplant carrots she’d started in seed trays. The roots looked like startled octopuses. What followed was a vocabulary lesson I will never unhear. Mildred still sighs when she thinks about it.

So remember:

Carrots, radishes, beets, squash → direct sow
Peas, beans → usually happier outside
Tomatoes, peppers, flowers → enjoy the indoor spa treatment

The One Thing Mildred and I Agree On

There comes a day every year.
A dark, fishy day.

It is the day The Gardener brings home her favorite seed-starting fertilizer: fish fertilizer. Neptune’s Harvest, to be exact.

Now, I am a gnome of the soil. I understand that good things smell bad. But this, this makes the entire greenhouse reek like Poseidon’s forgotten lunch. You can smell it outside. The Builder can smell it while hauling his camping equipment to and from the shed. He hates the fish fertilizer with the passion of a thousand suns. He walks past muttering, arms full of tents and tarps, as if preparing to flee civilization entirely.

So What Are the Best Seed-Starting Fertilizers?

Since you asked, and since I refuse to suffer without sharing wisdom, here are the best options for seedlings:

1. Fish Emulsion (like Neptune’s Harvest)

Excellent for leafy growth
Gentle enough when diluted properly
Smells like regret and low tide
Use at ¼ strength for seedlings

2. Liquid Seaweed (Kelp)

Encourages strong roots and resilience
Doesn’t smell quite as bad (still smells, though)
Great as a supplement, not a sole fertilizer

3. Balanced Organic Liquid Fertilizers (e.g., 2-2-2 or 3-1-2)

Designed for young plants
Often labeled “seedling-safe”
Less olfactory violence

4. Compost Tea (Very Mild)

Only if you know what you’re doing
Weak tea, not sludge
Think “sip,” not “meal”

How to Apply Without Ruining Everything

Wait until seedlings have true leaves (not just the first baby ones)
Dilute more than the label says (humans are heavy-handed)
Apply every 1–2 weeks, not daily
Water first if the soil is dry, never fertilize thirsty roots

Remember: seedlings want encouragement, not a full banquet.

In Conclusion (Before I Knock Over a Tray)

Seed starting is not about perfection. It’s about timing, patience, and knowing when to leave well enough alone. Get the basics right and respect which plants want to begin their lives in the outdoors. You must feed gently and accept the smell of fish as a sign of progress.

And if you ever feel tempted to transplant carrots, think of me, Gerald, shaking my tiny stone head in disappointment. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Mildred says the lights need adjusting, and I believe The Builder has opened every window in the greenhouse again.

Honestly. The man has no appreciation for nitrogen.

What the gardener is about to start for her PNW greenhouse in the next two weeks:

Tomatoes (San Marzano and Sungold), Tomatillos, Early Jalapenos, and Pot-a-peno (new this year)

A February Lecture on the Proper Mutilation of Roses
As delivered (unsolicited) by Gerald Witherspoon, Garden Gnome of Long Experience

I do not enjoy February because it is damp, gray, and my hat smells faintly of moss and unmet expectations. Yet, this is when the roses must be pruned.

You may imagine pruning to be a cheerful snip-snip affair undertaken by optimists in linen aprons. It is not. It is a bracing, mud-splattered act of faith performed between rain squalls in the Pacific Northwest while muttering about black spot.

Here in the PNW (Zone 8ish, give or take a microclimate and a dramatic windstorm), we prune roses around President’s Day, ideally:

After the harshest freezes
Before strong new growth elongates
On a dry-ish day, if such a myth presents itself

If you see buds beginning to swell, little reddish nubs along the canes, that is your cue. The roses are stirring. Best to tidy them before they leap into another year of production.

Before you approach a rose:

Use sharp bypass pruners (not the dreadful anvil sort that crushes). If you are The Gardener, this means going outside and figuring out where you left them last fall and cleaning off the rust.
Loppers for thick canes. The Gardener also got electric pruners from The Builder for Christmas, and she loves them.
Gloves thick and long enough to discourage regret.
Rubbing alcohol to wipe blades between plants, especially if black spot or powdery mildew was a problem last year.

Step One: Remove the Dead, the Dying, and the Dramatic

In February, every rose, hybrid tea, floribunda, shrub, climbing gets the same first treatment:

Remove all dead wood.
Dead canes are brown, brittle, and hollow or gray inside. Cut back to healthy green pith.
Remove diseased or damaged wood.
Anything blackened, shriveled, or suspicious.
Clear fallen leaves from the base.
Especially if black spot was present as those spores overwinter like uninvited relatives.
Strip remaining diseased leaves from canes.

Hard Prune vs. Light Prune (Choose Your Courage)

This is where gardeners lose their nerve.

The Hard Prune (For Bold Souls and Strong Roses)

Best for:

Hybrid teas
Floribundas
Grandifloras
Roses that performed poorly last year
Older shrubs needing rejuvenation

In a hard prune, you:

Cut canes back to 12–18 inches tall
Remove all but 3–5 strong, healthy canes
Cut just above an outward-facing bud
Aim for an open, vase-like shape (air circulation is everything in our damp climate)

Hard pruning results in:

Fewer but larger blooms
Stronger, more vigorous spring growth
A rose that behaves as though it has attended finishing school

It looks brutal, but it is for the greater good – so utilitarian in nature.

The Light Prune (For Shrubs, Climbers, and the Faint of Heart)

Best for:

Established shrub roses
English roses
Climbing roses (mostly shaping, not hacking)
Roses you wish to keep large

In a light prune, you:

Remove dead/damaged wood
Shorten canes by about one-third
Shape gently
Preserve the overall structure

For climbers:

Do not cut all canes short.
Keep main canes (the long structural ones).
Remove weak side shoots and shorten laterals to 2–3 buds.
Tie the main canes horizontally if possible; this encourages more blooms along the cane.

Step Two: Shape and Thin

After the big cuts:

Remove crossing canes (choose the stronger one).
Remove spindly growth thinner than a pencil.
Aim for 3–5 strong, evenly spaced canes.

Think structure. Think airflow. Think: Would a frog butler approve of this geometry?

“I do prefer symmetry,” Mr. Carson admits.

Step Three: Clean the Base

In the Pacific Northwest, disease management begins in February:

Rake out all old leaves.
Remove mulch that may harbor spores.
Replace with fresh compost or clean mulch after pruning.
Consider a dormant spray (lime sulfur or copper) applied on a dry day before leaves emerge.

:Prevention,” says Mr. Carson, “is the height of refinement.” The Gardener did this just yesterday – a nice copper fungicide combined with a dormant spray.

This is a bit of a controversial thought, but fertilizer isn’t needed right now.

A Note on Fear

Most gardeners are afraid to cut too much.

But roses, particularly hybrid teas and floribundas, want decisive pruning. In our mild winters and long, damp springs, they will rebound vigorously.

“If you prune lightly out of fear,” I say, “you get lanky canes, small blooms, and regret.”

The Deeper Matter (Which I Reluctantly Admit)

February pruning looks severe. The garden appears reduced. Exposed. Honest. Remember that this is preparation. You remove what is dead so the energy can be sent into what is living.

Mr. Carson folds his stone hands. “Pruning is not destruction. It is direction.”

Mildred smiles at the newly opened rose bush. “It is trust.”

I inspect the final cut, angled cleanly above an outward bud.

“It is,” I concede, “a necessary intervention against chaos.”

The rain begins again. Of course it does. But beneath the gray sky, the roses stand trimmed, structured, ready.

Jan. 22nd, 2026

Featuring purple alien lights, tea breaks, and a little dirt under the nails

Well, hello there, dirt-loving friends. Mildred the Gnome here, resident garden supervisor, seed whisperer, and part-time garage dweller. Pull up a mossy stool and let me tell you about one of my favorite PNW rituals: seed starting season.

Last year, the Gardener bought me a new grow light for the garage. It is… how do I put this delicately… purple. Not a gentle lavender. Not a polite violet. No. This thing makes the whole house glow like aliens are landing in Washington. The neighbors probably assume we’re communicating with outer space. 👽

But listen, the results? Magnificent. Sturdy stems. Happy leaves. No leggy drama queens. So, despite having two greenhouses, I will once again be stationed in the garage this year, sipping imaginary tea and supervising seedlings like the professional gnome I am.

Now, for many folks, seed starting feels mysterious. Like only gardeners with special powers and matching overalls can do it. But the truth?

It’s simple.
It’s forgiving.
And it opens up a whole universe of plants you’ll never find at the big box store.

When you buy from the hardware store, you’re getting the tough, generic kids, the ones that behave anywhere. Fine, respectable plants. But not always the ones best suited for your Pacific Northwest microclimate.

When you start from seed, though?
You get to choose heirlooms, weirdos, flavor bombs, and local favorites that actually like our cool nights and moody springs. Plus, you control the timing, the soil, and the love.

Easy peasy, as I say while tripping over a watering can.

Mildred’s Very Scientific Seed-Starting Method

First, I do what any organized gnome does:
I don’t plan much at all.

Instead, I grab a cup of tea (or two), plop myself at the kitchen table, and flip through my favorite PNW seed catalogs and websites:

Territorial Seed
Seattle Seed Company
And occasionally a little side quest to other places if something is missing (I adore the cupcake squash from Burpee (don’t tell Gerald).

There are lots of circles. Lots of dreaming. Tabbed pages, notes in the margins. Some whispering to tomatoes about their future.

Then comes the important part: reality.
How much space do I actually have?
Will these babies live in trays for weeks?
Do they need potting up once or twice before heading outdoors?

In the Pacific Northwest, timing matters. For tender things like tomatoes and peppers, Mother’s Day is usually the earliest safe bet, and that assumes we aren’t stuck in a cold, soggy spring (which we often are, because… PNW).

Seeds started too early need a cozy place to grow inside without turning into spindly noodles.

The Purple Garage of Destiny

Right now, I use a five-shelf system with grow lights in the garage. The purple glow makes it feel like a disco for plants. If Gerald doesn’t object, I’ll add more shelves as seed season ramps up in late February and March.

I always start with the varieties that take the longest:

Jalapeños
San Marzano tomatoes
Violas
Other slowpokes who like a head start

They sit under the lights, dreaming of summer while rain taps politely on the roof.

Mildred’s Best Steps for Seed Starting in the PNW

Here you go – Gnome-approved and gardener-tested:

Choose PNW-friendly seeds.
Look for varieties that like cool nights and shorter summers.
Know your dates.
Most tender plants go outside around Mother’s Day
Use good seed-starting mix.
Not heavy garden soil. Seeds want light, fluffy bedding like tiny plant mattresses.
Give them light immediately.
No window guessing games. Grow lights close to the plants prevent legginess. Seed warming mats help since they live in the very, very cold garage and I haven’t figure out how to knit seedling sweaters.
Water gently.
Moist, not soggy. Seeds hate swimming lessons.
Pot up when needed.
If roots fill their space before planting out, move them into bigger homes.
Harden off before outdoors.
Let them meet the real world slowly with a little outside time each day.
Don’t overthink it.
Plants want to grow. Your job is mostly to not get in the way.

Mildred’s favorites:

Cucamelon (Mexican Gherkin), Cupcake Squash, Sungold (cherry tomatoes), Spartan carving pumpkin, Double Click Cosmos, Purple Tomatillos, Whirligig Zinnias & Sweet Peas

Always add some pollinator-friendly plants like Borage and Lady Phacelia. The bees and the plants will be forever grateful.

Jan 9th, 2026

Mildred’s #1 Tip for January: When planning the amount of spring seeds to plant, remember that you are a gardener, not a farmer.

January Gardening Tasks in the Pacific Northwest

1. Observe Before You Act
This is the month to notice. Watch where water pools, where frost lingers longest, and which plants shrug off the cold. These observations will guide spring changes far better than any garden plan drawn indoors.

2. Tidy (Lightly)

Remove fallen, soggy leaves from lawns and paths to prevent rot and slipping.
Leave seed heads, stems, and leaf litter in beds where possible, as they shelter beneficial insects and birds.
Cut back only what is clearly dead or diseased.

3. Pruning (Weather Permitting)

Prune fruit trees (apples, pears) and dormant deciduous trees on dry days.
Remove crossing or damaged branches.
Avoid pruning spring-flowering shrubs

4. Care for the Soil

Stay off saturated soil to avoid compaction.
Add compost to beds if the ground isn’t frozen; winter rains help work it in naturally.
Mulch around perennials to protect roots from freeze and thaw cycles

5. Check Drainage – January rain reveals everything

Clear clogged drains, swales, and gutters.
Consider rain gardens, French drains, or relocating plants that hate wet feet.

6. Protect From Cold Snaps

Keep frost cloth or burlap handy for sudden freezes.
Check that tender plants are insulated, and pots are elevated off cold ground.

7. Indoor & Covered Tasks

Clean and sharpen tools.
Wash pots and seed trays.
Take inventory of seeds and start ordering
Start slow-growing seeds indoors late in the month (leeks, onions, celery).

8. Feed the Wildlife

Keep bird feeders clean and stocked.
Provide fresh water
Your garden allies are watching and waiting.

9. Dream a Little
January is for garden notebooks, wish lists, and sticky notes on seed catalogs. Let ideas wander. The garden will tell you when it’s time to act.