Green Living

Using rain barrels to reduce water use and clean up stormwater runoff

Over the two years I’ve employed my two rain barrels, converted pickle containers (I still get a whiff of “half-sour” every time I take off the lid), I don’t think I’ve turned on my outdoor hose once during growing season. A good Indiana rainstorm will fill those 66-gallon containers in a flash. I plug on my garden hose and give my flowers and vegetable patch a good drink.

The use of rain barrels earns me quite a few green brownie points from my most water-conscious friends: first, because I’m cutting back my household water consumption in a world where potable water is increasingly at risk; second, because I’m reducing storm water runoff, which picks up oils, pollutants, and other toxic substances that make their way into our water systems, lakes, and rivers.

Rain barrels aren’t hard to find these days. Garden centers and big box stores often carry a variety of sizes. Most cost from $100 and up. But the return is worth the investment-cost-free rainwater, the ultimate in recyclable resources.

Planning next summer’s garden takes the chill out of winter

The seed catalog came today. In the dead of winter, the future promise of food springing forth from my backyard is what keeps me going during these dismal weeks. I pore over the possibilities: Rainbow chard or green? Bush or pole beans? Should I give garlic a try this year? Go for a hotter pepper?

Now that I’ve been gardening my own little patch of earth for the past few years, I’ve stretched beyond my repertoire of basil, tomatoes, and peppers. Slender Asian eggplant, white beets, pink radishes, purple potatoes. I’ve experimented with different kinds of cucumbers. I’ve added edible flowers to the mix.

But what really tells me that I’ve graduated beyond beginner status? This year, I intend to plant my own seeds, harvested from last summer’s crop. I saved big, red-and-black kidney shapes from the scarlet runner beans and a medley of seeds from various squash. Nasturtiums, cilantro, marigolds, borage-collected and waiting to be planted once the ground thaws.

And it occurs to me that I’ve achieved sustainability in one of its purest forms. I’m propagating food from my own food! I anticipate late-August dinners of ratatouille and stir fry without having spent a penny at the farmer’s market or even on a packet of seeds.

With this miraculous transformation of dirt into dinner, it makes me wonder why any of us bother with grass at all.

(Be sure to take a look at Organic Gardening For Dummies to get a jump-start on the planting season.)