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the parsnip that started it all |
It started in 2008, when I sowed my first parsnip seeds. I wasn't that excited about it, associating parsnips with turnips, which I don't care to eat. We dug up most of them the following spring but I left one in the ground to see what would happen. In spite of my lack of experience, I knew it was a biennial plant and that
something would happen. Very much to my surprise, it grew to be almost as tall as me and branched out with great umbels that grew seeds. I was in awe of it, much as I had been of bolted lettuce plants the first time I saw them. It was some time after the seeds had developed sufficiently to produce new plants that the flower blew over in a storm, falling directly south toward the the fence. No doubt there was a great scattering of seeds that night, but there was also the dragging of the plant off to the compost after we realized the stalk could not be righted. Still, we had no idea how far those seeds had been flung.
In the spring of 2010, parsnips sprouted from the lawn. They still do. They emerged around the two bee balm plants where the flower toppled and along the periphery of that side of the garden. I let them grow, thinking of them as potential food. One of the volunteers growing right next to the cinder block border of the garden was our prize parsnip that year. It was a huge effort to uproot it from where it had burrowed under the brick. Others weren't worth picking; the next year they became flowers. We let a few of them go, if they weren't in the way. We had to remove one that grew to overhang a narrow pathway. This was due to the ant hazard. Ants find parsnip flowers to be great range land for their aphid herds. You don't want to have to brush past a plant where defensive ants loiter at neck height.
What happened with the 2011 flowers, I don't know. I thought we carefully removed all the seeds before they had a chance to escape. Still, seeds got around. The wind may have blown them off when we weren't looking. 2009 seeds from the distributed compost could have germinated. I wouldn't put it past the ants; they love to carry stuff around just to show off their impressive jaw strength to body weight ratio. There are now parsnips growing in every bed of the main garden. I don't think they have infiltrated the new raised beds.
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parsnip in bee balm |
This is the smallest bee balm plant with a tiny parsnip. It's difficult when they get in among the roots of perennials. We pull parsnip leaves from the larger bee balm plants every week. One even managed to make a flower before we caught it. The root has to be exhausted eventually, I hope.
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parsnips with lettuce |
This is one of the beds where I sowed parsnips in 2011. They did not do well. I can't tell yet whether these are first or second year plants. Though it's logical that last year's planting would yield second year plants here, I don't see any sign of a flower yet. I think it would be happening by now.
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parsnips with brussels sprouts |
Now here is a nightmare for some children: two of their not so favourite vegetables side by side. I feel quite confident that these are growing from seeds this year. I had snow peas and carrots in this section last year and was weeding like a fiend to keep sow thistle from going to seed here (for all the good that did). Would have noticed parsnips. I haven't checked The Vegetable Gardener's Bible to see if these two are good companions. They are both doing fine.
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parsnip with sunchokes |
The sun chokes are growing so thick in this bed, it may be difficult to see the parsnip that is happily situated on the sunny side of the rectangle. It's huge. For a while I was thinking that anything that got that big that quickly had to be second year. But I don't remember when this one started. Another wait and see. It will be interesting to see how deep it can grow. The bed was created on top of lawn, so the root only has about eight inches to go before it hits the lovely hard packed clay substrate that we enjoy so much in Lethbridge.
They are found among the peas and pole beans and tomatoes, and growing out of the sides of the mounded beds. They are not fussy about where they grow or how deeply the seeds are planted. All they need is water, light and space. With all the pests we find in the garden, nothing goes for parsnip leaves or roots. I have come to enjoy eating the roots, especially if prepared with butter and garlic. Somewhere I read that the leaves were edible, but then Barry (after I encouraged him to try eating a leaf) found several sources that say they are poisonous and can cause burns on contact with skin. I always wear gloves in the garden anyway.
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parsnips with intent, and onions |
I did sow a bed with parsnip seeds in May, from 2009 seeds. Intended to do more when I figured out where they could go, but never did get it done. This will not be enough. Though there is space available, there is not enough growing season left. Therefore I am leaving all the volunteers in place until they sprout stalks and umbels. They may even do better than the mass planting, which is due for a thinning. So why not just shake a couple of flowers over the entire garden in late summer and let them grow where they like? Mainly because I want to know exactly where to dig for them in the winter, and because once I find a parsnip growing in the spring, it's hard to sacrifice it to make room for a beet, and because they might take over the planet.
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