Simpler Living
By Fiona Wagner • Bankrate.com

This time last year, I wrote about my obsession with seed catalogues. I have to admit, I still have a weakness for those glossy mags full of edible natural goodness. But this year, our second full summer on our farm in eastern Ontario, I'm approaching my garden with a more discerning eye and a year of experience under my belt. This year, I'm making a plan.

I had the best intentions of making a garden plan last year. I knew the value of doing so -- a plan gives you a road map of how to get from your seed catalogue dreams in January to your harvest in the fall. But last year, after a long winter and the challenges of just getting used to country living, I found myself flying by the seat of my dirt-crusted plants.

Even so, I got a taste of what food should taste like. And I knew I wanted more.

But as my 5-year-old daughter flipped through a gorgeous seed catalogue insisting that we should grow kohlrabi this year even though she's never tasted it (it looks cool, she says) and eggplant because it's her favourite colour, I decided to be a bit more strategic.

The value of plan
Whether you're tending a kitchen window box, a suburban yard, a city allotment or a rural acreage, it helps to think about what you're trying to accomplish -- what you want your garden to do for you -- and then work backward to figure out where to start.

For example, perhaps you'd really like to make your own pesto this year. In that case, you'd want to grow Genovese or Italian Large Leaf Basil. If you want to make your own tomato sauce, grow paste or sauce tomatoes (we're trying Amish Paste this year), which are meatier and less juicy than big Beefsteaks.

Getting started
Revisiting last year's garden notes, even with their challenges and missed expectations, enabled me to get a sense of what worked and didn't work in my zone five plot.

To be sure, I knew the beets, green beans and carrots were all out of this world on the taste meter, but since I'd only planted enough for a few days of eating, I needed to plant more seeds stretched over a period of several weeks to provide a continuous harvest throughout summer.

While growing 24 heirloom tomato varieties was fun and produced some not-otherwise-seen-in-a-grocery-store fruit, such as the ethereal White Queen or striking Black Ruffle, I'm focusing my attention on fewer varieties this year and planting more of them -- ones for sandwich slicing, salsa and sauce-making, one or two novelty variety and, of course, lots of cherry tomatoes for the kids to fight over.

Choosing seeds
Once I had a general idea of what I wanted to grow, only then did I pick up a seed catalogue. But the one that would supply life to my garden this year wasn't glossy or flashy -- it was 52 pages of black-and-white newsprint filled with descriptions of hundreds of rare and endangered heirloom seeds.

While most commercial growers cultivate hybrid seeds -- ones that are bred for certain desirable and reliable traits such as maturity date or disease resistance -- an increasing number of market gardeners and home food growers are choosing heirloom seeds, which are grown and saved over countless generations. Saved hybrids seeds, on the other hand, don't grow true to their parents and therefore have to be purchased each year.

Heirloom seeds are usually regionally adapted and offer better flavour, colour and texture than hybrids. This may come at the expense of disease resistance and holding ability, but I'm in this for the taste, not the commercial shelf life or aesthetic appeal.

Even without the beautiful photos, it's easy (for me, at least) to get caught up in the heritage of each variety (did you know that arugula has been cultivated since Roman times, when it was used as an aphrodisiac, or that the West Indian gherkin pickle was brought to Jamaica from Africa during the slave trade and then introduced to North America in 1793?).

But the factors that decided which varieties would have a role in this year's garden production were qualities like days to maturity, growing habit, resistance to disease and pests, tolerance to wacky weather, usage, storage capabilities and, of course, taste.

For example, while Paris Market sounded like a fun carrot to try, growing into a perfect 1.5-inch ball, I needed something that would store well, extending our fresh food supply well past Christmas.

Planning it out
After hours at the kitchen table, I came up with a master list of what I'll be growing. Then, it was time for the right brain to kick in and the spreadsheets to come out.

Working backward from last year's frost date of May 22, I calculated when I should start my seedlings, how many seeds or seedlings I needed for a family of four, by which days I should have my transplants or seeds in the ground and how often I should sow successive plantings. These dates are all mapped out on the calendar, removing the uncertainty of what to do when.

It looks a lot like math, especially when I'm the type who just wants to get in there and start growing things. I'm much happier out in the garden, with dirt underneath my nails and the sun on my back, but a year of winging it has shown the importance of planning ahead.

It's not like vegetables need a plan -- give them enough food, water and sunlight and they just want to grow. It's we humans that need some help. But the few hours I've spent planning will save hundreds out in the field. It'll also ensure we'll have enough fresh produce to last us until Christmas, if not longer. That means money in the bank and incredible-tasting food in our bellies.

Fiona Wagner is a freelance writer living in Hastings County, Ont.