Something beginning with O.
Yes, the first oca seedling of 2011 has appeared, not entirely unexpectedly, in last year's oca bed. No squirreling away of seeds in little envelopes, no meticulous bagging of developing pods, just a healthy little plant reporting for duty. Makes me wonder whether I should just let the little darlings get on with it, which is probably the method adopted by the Andean farmers who have developed this crop over several thousand years.
Call me pretentious, but I've decided to name it Prima, the first oca of the 2011 season.
Prima's germination and growth may have been accelerated by the unusually warm April we've just experienced. Looking back at last year's spontaneous oca eruption, I notice that it began somewhat later, in June.
It's fairly easy to distinguish Prima from last year's tubers which are also emerging all over the place: it has a lovely pair of cotyledons - small, but perfectly formed. Just like Adam and Eve's lack of navels, no shoot from a tuber produces these tell-tale appendages. And when I say small, I do mean small - take a look at the adjacent dandelion pappus for an idea of scale. Diminutive stature notwithstanding, I am quietly confident that Prima will be joined by several siblings before the month is out.
Much more obvious than any oca seedlings and frankly, rather disturbing, are the hordes of talet volunteers springing up like leguminous bindweed. The pencil at the bottom of the picture gives some idea of their size. Will no one rid me of these turbulent talets? I'm going to have to evict them; unless someone wants to intercede on their behalf, I'll simply have to hoe them off. A shame, but it does demonstrate that this plant is a survivor and a tasty one at that.
Yes, the first oca seedling of 2011 has appeared, not entirely unexpectedly, in last year's oca bed. No squirreling away of seeds in little envelopes, no meticulous bagging of developing pods, just a healthy little plant reporting for duty. Makes me wonder whether I should just let the little darlings get on with it, which is probably the method adopted by the Andean farmers who have developed this crop over several thousand years.
Call me pretentious, but I've decided to name it Prima, the first oca of the 2011 season.
Prima's germination and growth may have been accelerated by the unusually warm April we've just experienced. Looking back at last year's spontaneous oca eruption, I notice that it began somewhat later, in June.
It's fairly easy to distinguish Prima from last year's tubers which are also emerging all over the place: it has a lovely pair of cotyledons - small, but perfectly formed. Just like Adam and Eve's lack of navels, no shoot from a tuber produces these tell-tale appendages. And when I say small, I do mean small - take a look at the adjacent dandelion pappus for an idea of scale. Diminutive stature notwithstanding, I am quietly confident that Prima will be joined by several siblings before the month is out.
Much more obvious than any oca seedlings and frankly, rather disturbing, are the hordes of talet volunteers springing up like leguminous bindweed. The pencil at the bottom of the picture gives some idea of their size. Will no one rid me of these turbulent talets? I'm going to have to evict them; unless someone wants to intercede on their behalf, I'll simply have to hoe them off. A shame, but it does demonstrate that this plant is a survivor and a tasty one at that.
Comments
The talet seems like a good contender for fixed-bed self-perpetuating polycultures.
Hi Veg Heaven - that sounds like a very interesting and worthwhile line of experimentation to me.
The Gardens North ones are doing very well and need potting on. I scarified them carefully and kept them at room temperature - think they came up within two weeks. If you'd like some of the bigger ones I'm about to evict, email your address again.