Growing hydroponic greens

Hydroponics bed, straggly lettuce
Ebb and flow bed.

I’ve been meaning to write about my hydroponics bed for ages and haven’t got round to it. I started it in the winter and made a whole big deal about being able to grow my ‘Brexit lettuces’ because of the uncertainty about fresh food prices after the UK crashed out of the EU trade networks. It’s working pretty well now, so here’s a summary of what I did. It cost about £100 to set up.

Hydroponics bed under polythene
Wrapped up for night with heat pad underneath and polythene over the top. You can see the reservoir, the red bin, bottom right.
  1. I took a plastic under-bed storage box that’s about eight inches deep.
  2. I fitted ebb-and-flow fittings in two of the corners—an in and an out. They’re also sold as flood-and-drain fittings. I paid about £12.
  3. I repurposed an old waste bin as my water reservoir. You need something that will hold more water than your under-bed storage box and if you can rig up a lid that’s good because it stops evaporation. It needs to be positioned lower than your grow bed.
  4. I bought a small air pump and a small aquarium pump for about £10 each. These both go in your water reservoir. The air pump stops the water going horrible.
  5. And I got a cheap LED grow-light for about £40.
  6. I filled the storage box with clay pebbles to about an inch from the top. Don’t do this until you’ve got it in situ because of the weight. Wash them first because they’re dusty and that clagged up my little pump.
  7. I bought four-inch mesh pots and some flat trays. The mesh pots I use for tomatoes etc and the flat trays for green leaves. I use coir in the flat trays and a grow-sponge surrounded by coir in the pots. The flat trays are only half an inch deep and aren’t ideal. I need something longer and deeper and narrower to fit my set-up, but haven’t got round to making anything yet—I’m thinking that old plastic milk cartons with lots of holes punched in them might work. You need it to be net-like so the roots can work their way out. The pots work fine, I start them in the bed and then when the plants get tall I move them into large individual jars on the floor. This needs changing regularly because it goes green.
  8. I use Formulex liquid, on a 1:10 ratio. So my set-up takes 20 litres and I put in 200ml of liquid and change it every two or three weeks. It costs £12 per litre.
  9. I set the pump on a timer. Over the winter I had it going for fifteen minutes four times a day. Now it’s got warmer, I have it going for a extra two slots during the daytime.
  10. The light I initially had on for twelve hours a day. BUT I didn’t get very good growth and so I kept it on permanently and the lettuce seemed to really like that. Now we have more than 12 hours daylight, I’ve turned it off completely.
Hydroponics bed, lots of lettuce
Lettuce! Yay!

I also used an old vivarium heat pad during the coldest months—the set up is in my conservatory which gets pretty cold in the small hours. I slid that under the box, on top of the wooden surface and it kept the heat of the clay balls up sufficiently that the water flowing in was warmed and wasn’t a shock to the roots. If you have it in the house where it’s doesn’t get too cold at night, you won’t need that.

Tomatoes in cut-down 2l pop bottles. Not successful--too wobbly.
Tomatoes in cut-down pop bottles. Too unstable, I moved to big glass jars.

I read up a lot on EC levels—the mineral and nutrient content in the nutrient mix. Different plants need different kinds. It baffled me, quite frankly—I include links below so you can be baffled yourself. By random luck I seem to have hit on something that lettuce and tomatoes love, so I just change the solution every two or three weeks and it seems to be working.

Conclusions

I think this is one of those things that it’s quite easy to set up in a rough-and ready sort of way, which is my modus operandi, quite frankly. And harder to do precisely, which I have no interest in at all. My aim was to have fresh salad for the family that would survive even if I had three days unable to get out of bed and no-one else remembered to water it; and to avoid having half-liquid bags of leaves in the bottom of the fridge. I have achieved this.

The initial set-up cost was a bit eye-watering, largely because of the cost of the light. The ongoing cost is obviously the electric for the pumps/light and the Formulex, which costs about £5 per month, less if I change the solution every three weeks rather than two. You can make your own, but for me the cost offsets the faffing around.

Salad is £2 a bag and we buy a bag or more a week. So I’m £5 in hand a month and it will take two years to pay for the kit, ish. I’m happy with that—it wasn’t meant to be a cheap solution. I feel that I’m balancing my desire to have a proper permaculture garden and feed us all from scratch with what I can manage by myself with my physical and temporal limitations!

What I’d do differently

I’d probably not have such a deep container. For cut-and-come again and baby leaves, the eight inches isn’t necessary. Five would probably do, which would mean you could cut down on the clay pebbles needed, and therefore the amount of solution and the amount of nutrient.

the week that was

I was going to write a post telling you all about my hydroponic lettuce growing set-up, because why not? But instead it’s been such a bloody stressful week that I’m going to moan about that because I need to get it off my chest.

The Week That Was

These are the things we’ve had to deal with this week:

  1. Decide whether to go ahead with Littlest’s elective surgery that is supposed to help with her curling-in feet. The hope is that she’ll be able to stand again. However, it’s been delayed for twelve months because #Covid and in all that time she has been without splints (more #Covid) and has not been standing. It is therefore likely that she doesn’t have enough strength left to regain where she was, even with lots of physio. But she might. Also, the anaesthetic is a bit dodgy, because of her breathing issues.
  2. Still pushing for a vaccine for her. The local health service is only calling clinically extremely vulnerable 12-15 year olds who are in residential care at the moment. Other services nearby are calling all children in special schools. It was a bit of a blow, but it will be a matter of weeks apparently.
  3. We needed to sign off her ‘Advanced Care Plan’, which used to be call her ‘End of Life Care Plan’, but they changed the name a couple of years ago to make it more fluffy and less brutal. It’s still brutal. We have decided we do not want resuscitation.
  4. My mother has updated her own DNR paperwork. She’s done, pretty much, and is perfectly happy with her low intervention decision; as am I because it’s what she wants, but it’s my mum.
  5. As the filling in the shit sandwich, one of our carer’s other clients has suspected Covid and she is therefore isolating until this person gets their test results back. It should have taken three days, but the test has been lost in the post. So we are managing without help.
  6. Mr AL has put his back out. (Lifting a bloody piano. Don’t laugh). I can move  her, but it’s a bit much for me and tends to mean I have a seizure afterwards, so as he’s recovered we’re double-handling her…she has a hoist for actually getting in and out of bed/her chair/the sofa etc, but still needs moving once she’s landed.
  7. Talking Child has had another round of bullying at school. School sounds like half the student body have gone feral after three months of no real structure and a lot of staff are still off, shielding or whatever, and I wouldn’t be a teacher for all the money in the world at the moment. TC was disappointed that she missed a huge fight in the playground yesterday and when the head of year rang me, she sounded exhausted. If you are an educator, I applaud you, hang in there.

Anyway, all these things are why I’ve been quiet. I’m drained, I’m sad about my mum and the issues our kids are dealing with and I have been struggling to adult. I so want to get back on the writing horse in the mornings; and the last few days I have actually rolled out of bed and sat at my desk. But my brain hasn’t kicked in yet.

Inheritance of Shadows

Eight Acts came out last weekend and As the Crows Fly is dropping on the 13th April. Inheritance of Shadows is in the process of going wide in audio with a new cover. My slate is clear, but I feel completely uninspired about getting on with Sylvia Marks, although I know where I want the story to go.

I was talking to Littlest’s community nurse yesterday and she says that pretty much all her families have crashed in a similar fashion. It’s the light at the end of the tunnel finally being visible, I think.

So for #TheWeekThatWas, that is all.

the thing with feathers

This week has been hellish. Being shut in the house with two wildly differently-abled kids, attempting to support one with Year Eight home learning and keep the other occupied and safe when she can’t be left unsupervised is just…great.

selective focus photography of white hen
Photo by Todd Trapani on Pexels.com

I’m a hundred percent certain that other families have it just as hard–the one with six children and one computer, for example. But. Talking Child is still feeling the squeeze of having to keep to her regular timetabled lessons but not see her peers in person. Littlest is still bored. Bored bored bored. She doesn’t understand why she can’t go to school. She doesn’t want to play by herself and is still lobbing things on the floor. The dog chews them if you don’t pick them up immediately. This week he’s eaten two meerkats and a doll’s house towel rail.

The cat’s been sick from a rat bite gone septic and had to go to the vet for an injection. The car failed it’s MOT and needed new tyres, which meant Mr AL had to go and collect it, take it to another garage, make an appointment to go back because they didn’t have the right kind in, then when he went back the wrong ones had come in with the order and he had to go back yet again. Then the day the re-MOT was scheduled I had a massive seizure an hour before he was due to go, so he had to cancel it and rearrange for today. Obviously we are supposed to be shielding because of Littlest, so it’s all been a bit nerve grinding.

However. My Mama had her first vaccination last weekend. Our carer is back from her break and we have a few hours off. And I’ve finished the Chicken Story! I’m now cracking on apace again with Dr Sylvia Marks. The chicken diversion was very cleansing. I’m going to rough out all three of the books–different pairings in each book but a through-arc of a main story–before the first one is released in early July, which I hope will make the series more cohesive.

I’m just so, so, tired. Yes, it’s partly the lockdown and its impact on us as a family. But I think some of it is a reaction to the end of the Trump era, too. It feels to me rather like it did here in 1997 when Labour finally got in after years out of power. An enormous weight lifted of the collective shoulders of the country.

We have hope again.

it’s all quacking along

The big news at Lester Towers is that we have some new ducks!

We lost Mr Duck last weekend–he’d been ailing for a while–and Mrs Duck was distraught, calling and calling for him. So yesterday Mr AL went down the lane and did a socially distanced pick-up of a new pair, a lady and a gentleman. They are in house and Mrs Duck is here in the little pond having a nice swim, whilst they are in the house behind her. You can hear her chuntering on to herself if you turn up the volume.

Apart from that, this week has been hard. Talking Child is still having a conniption fit about home schooling. She is wandering round with a beanie pulled down so far over her eyes it’s touching her nose, grumbling that education is pointless as it’s just the government turning out good little citizens that won’t argue with it and anyway we’re all going to die of covid.

I am finding this quite wearing.

We have hopefully beaten her into shape today (not literally) and are all spending five hours a day sat around the dining table working together rather than retreating to our respective corners with headphones. As I type we are running over kinds of computer hardware.

I am stuttering along with the Chicken Story. It can’t quite decide whether it’s set at Valentine’s or Christmas, although it’s definitely winter. On a good day I usually write about twelve hundred words and I’m hoping to have it finished by the end of next week, depending on life chaos.

Cover of Dark, by Paul Arvidson

In the meantime I’m helping Mr AL with his marketing (you can buy his first-in-series, Dark, for 99c/KU: his tagline is basically it’s hobbits in space if that’s your kind of thing) and I’m just fiddling with the distribution of Inheritance of Shadows to try and make it easier for people to find on Amazon, and making some pretty pictures for social media.

We had a visit from the children’s hospice earlier this week to provide us with some respite, and Mr AL and I went for a walk by ourselves, the first time we’ve been out of the house together by ourselves for weeks. Littlest is still throwing things on the floor the moment you turn your back on her and it’s exhausting. This week our carer has been poorly so we haven’t had any respite at all apart from that. On the one hand it’s quite nice not having people coming into the house every day; but on the other, being ‘on duty’ 24/7 is utterly draining.

It’s sunny today and I’m looking forward to the weekend–apparently we are playing Carcassone and having pizza.

Introducing #TheWeekThatWas

This is going to be a new post feature thing, hopefully, if I can keep my momentum going. I’m going to do an update on a Friday about what’s been going on at Lester Towers.

So this week:

I’M WRITING A CHICKEN STORY, OKAY?
Four chickens in a line staring accusingly at the photographer.
Photo by Engin Akyurt on Pexels.com

This is week has mostly be taken up with release promo for The Hunted and the Hind. I got really behind and half-organised some facbook and blog drop-ins in good time in late November and early December. And then family life got really, really complicated for a few weeks and my mental health plummeted, so I booked a launch tour with the lovely Lori at Indigo Marketing. That took quite a bit of the pressure off, but I’ve still had a list as long as my arm of things to do.

In the meantime I’ve been trying to get back on the Writing Horse and start the new trilogy I’ve roughed out centered around Dr Sylvia Marks, one of the side-characters in Inheritance of Shadows. I’m trotting along all right with that, but it’s complicated because there’s foreshadowing and short story arcs and long story arcs and generally having sit and think and stare into space a lot.

My usual writing style is throw about thirty thousand words about two characters at the page randomly and see what sticks, then fill in the bits that need filling in. So this is a completely different process for me. There’s lots of words and they’re on the page but I’m not quite sure where they fit together. It’s a bit like only having half a really large jigsaw and you’re waiting for the other half to arrive in the post.

In the meantime this week in the UK, we have had: Your kids must go back to school, it’s safe/oh, no strike that, don’t send them back, the pandemic is out of control; Brexit is fine, nothing to see here; and, oh, America is exploding.

My brain has clearly decided that it can’t cope with anything more complicated than short, fluffy stories, so this morning I’ve begun to write a meet-cute based around a lost chicken.

Do not judge me.