Free Woad, Weld and Other Dye Plant Seeds

Free Woad, Weld, Madder, Coreopsis Tinctoria, Japanese Indigo and Impatiens Balsamina Seeds

Now all gone, thanks everybody 
Small envelopes of dye plant seeds saved from my garden last autumn are available for free with free postage, because I shan't be taking them to talks and workshops this spring and would be delighted to find them good homes. UK only, offer ends when the seeds run out.

*******

I practically choked on my tea when I saw the envelopes. "However did you find those dye plant seeds?"
My companion, Elinor Gotland just smiled and shrugged.
"Perseverance, Beaut. With all those stacks of boxes you've got piled up, I knew it was odds on there'd a few seeds saved in one of them."

I moved house last winter. 
Truth be told, I have still not entirely unpacked and was not in the least prepared for visitors. In practice, the whole virus crisis has caused me only the most minor of inconveniences. When Elinor appeared on my new doorstep, masked and gowned in sterile whites, my first thought was that himself must have dropped off another loo roll. Then the swathed shape swanned indoors demanding tea.
"You wouldn't believe what a journey I've had. Eerie, the quiet on the streets, absolute nightmare finding a cab across Paris to the Eurostar. Feels like I just caught the last freedom moped out of Nowhere City."

Brushing aside COVID -19 precautions as not applicable to sheep, my companion gave me a hug and ensconced herself in the spare room. Next morning she returned home from Asda with a clanking bag of shopping and a sack of seed compost.
"Life's little essentials for me and a gift for you, Beaut. Probably not peat free, but fair play, needs must. Still reusing those old plastic seed trays?"
"Well, that's very kind but I'm not really organised for gardening, Elinor. I mean, there's no greenhouse here, just a north facing yard. In any case, I didn't buy a 2020 biodynamic calendar and I've no idea when the moon will be right."

Elinor tipped the woad seeds into a jar of water.
"Give the silicles 24 hours to soak, isn't that what you used to do? We can sow your seeds tomorrow."
Next day I did find some small seed trays, filled them with damp compost and sure enough, the little yellow woad seeds were easy to strip out of the middle of their sodden silicles. It didn't take long to lay a dozen out in a grid, cover them with a dusting of compost, press it down to get them in good contact with the soil, then label and wrap the tray in clingfilm.

Once in the swing of it, I carried on sprinkling trays with Coreopsis tinctoria, Impatiens balsamina and Japanese Indigo, none of which need to be soaked in advance and even remembered that weld seeds need maximum light and should be surface sown without any top covering of compost. 

Looking at the filled trays, my cheery mood evaporated.
"Oh hell and damnation, Elinor. The only room in this house that gets much direct sun hasn't any windowsills." 

"What a good job you've got all those boxes. Shove them over to the light, right up against the wall, don't stand there like a lemon."

That was five days ago and things seem to be working out. The Coreopsis sprouted after three days and this morning, when I turned the tray in which seedlings are already stretching for the light, I noticed that the Impatiens seeds are also germinating. A whole new dye plant garden remains a long way off, but as a start, I think this is good enough.