Tag: Winter Gardening

  • How to Start Onion Seeds Indoors: Easy Winter Gardening for a Strong Spring Harvest

    How to Start Onion Seeds Indoors: Easy Winter Gardening for a Strong Spring Harvest

    Disclosure: This post contains Amazon affiliate links. If you purchase through these links, I may receive a small commission at no additional cost to you. I only recommend products our family actually uses and finds helpful in the garden or kitchen. Thank you for supporting Practical Homesteading—it helps me keep sharing our stories of growing food, raising kids, and building community.


    In my last post, I wrote about planting onions with my son—the quiet winter ritual that reminds me how growth begins long before it’s visible. Today, I’m sharing our simple process so you can start your own onion seeds, too. It’s an easy, rewarding way to bring some green life into the cold months.

    1. Start early.
      Begin about 10–12 weeks before your last expected frost. Here in the Midwest, that usually means late January or early February.
    2. Choose the right varieties.
      Long‑day onions, such as ‘Yellow Ebenezer’ or ‘Red Wing’, do best in northern climates where summer days are long. Southern gardeners should look for short‑day types like ‘Texas Early Grano’.
    3. Prepare containers and soil.
      Reuse shallow berry cartons or seed trays (Amazon affiliate link)—just make sure they have drainage holes. Fill them with a light, fine seed‑starting mix about two inches deep. Place the tray on a cookie sheet or shallow pan to catch water.

      Lay a paper towel underneath the tray and moisten it. The towel helps distribute water evenly so moisture wicks up through the soil. Repeat until the mix feels uniformly damp but not soggy.
    4. Sow the seeds.
      Sprinkle seeds evenly across the surface. If you prefer precise spacing—and an easier time separating seedlings later—use tweezers to place them individually.
    5. Provide warmth and cover.
      Cover the tray with cling wrap or a clear plastic bag to retain moisture. Keep the setup warm, around 65–70°F, until you see seedlings poking through. A seed‑starting heat mat (Amazon affiliate link) helps maintain steady warmth.

      Once germination begins (after 7–10 days), remove the cover and move the tray beneath a grow light (Amazon affiliate link) or into a sunny south‑facing window for 12–14 hours per day.
    6. Water and trim.
      Continue watering from below using the same paper‑towel technique. When the soil surface begins to dry, add a bit of water to the tray. Trim tops to about three inches once a week—this strengthens the stems and encourages root growth. Bonus: the cuttings are delicious! My son loves snacking on them fresh.
    7. Harden off and transplant.
      When seedlings reach 6–8 inches tall and the soil outdoors can be worked, begin hardening them off. Gradually expose them to outdoor conditions for about a week, then plant them four inches apart in rows.

    The seeds are small. I used a tweezers to carefully place each one.
    Planted, with the paper towel trick underneath to wick the excess water evenly throughout the bottom.
    I used a plastic garbage bag as a moisture trap until the sprouts started poking through.
    You can use old strawberry containers to plant in too, I have a layer of fabric on the bottom so the soil didn’t fall through.

    By late spring, those tiny green shoots will have grown into sturdy plants ready to feed your family—and perhaps your neighbors, too. Sharing a meal of homemade French onion soup with loved ones is one of my favorite ways to grow community as well as food.

    Here’s to green shoots, patience, and the small beginnings that nourish far more than we expect.


    🌱 Enjoyed this guide? Let me know how your onion seedlings are coming along in the comments below!
    💬 Share this post with a friend who’s dreaming of spring gardening.
    ❤️ Subscribe to get my newest posts on growing food, raising kids, and building community—straight to your inbox every Thursday and Sunday.

    Related Posts

  • Seeds of Patience: What Planting Onions with My Child Taught Me About Growth

    Seeds of Patience: What Planting Onions with My Child Taught Me About Growth

    My six‑year‑old son and I stand together in the soft, golden light of a winter morning. Outside, the world lies quiet under a thin layer of snow. Inside, our kitchen hums with gentle purpose. On an old sour cream container cover, tiny onion seeds rest—black flecks of promise. The soil waits to cradle them in recycled strawberry cartons. My son points to the sunbeam and whispers that the floating dust looks like magic. I smile and agree.

    With tweezers in hand, I show him how to lift each seed and drop it into place. He tries once, twice, and then finds his rhythm. We do this a hundred times—two sets of hands planting quiet hope in the soil. The air smells of earth and possibility. Even in midwinter, there’s life brewing under our fingertips.

    I am struck by how vulnerable each seed is—relying entirely on us for warmth, water, and light. They hold the potential to feed our family, just as my son holds his own potential, waiting for the right care to help him thrive. I can give him a home, guidance, and love, but not control what takes root or how quickly it grows. All I can do is nurture and trust.

    Each morning, we peek into the trays. Nothing happens—until, suddenly, everything does. A thin green shoot bends toward the light, impossibly fragile yet fierce in its will to live. I feel that same thrill watching my son master something new. The patience, the waiting, the joy of discovery—all unfolds in its own time.

    Over the weeks, we’ll water carefully, clip the tops, and ready the seedlings for their place in the garden. By summer, they’ll feed us, just as these shared moments feed me in ways I never expected. It feels good to know that something small, started with care, can ripple outward into community.

    Gardening keeps teaching me that growth—whether in a seed, a child, or a neighborhood—comes from the same things: attention, patience, and faith in what we cannot yet see. Maybe that’s why tending these small beginnings feels so deeply hopeful.

    In my next post, I’ll share exactly how we start our onions indoors each January, in case you’d like to bring a little green magic into your own winter days.


    🌱 Did this story resonate with you? Tell me about a moment when gardening taught you something unexpected.
    💬 Know someone who’d enjoy this reflection? Please share it!
    ❤️ Subscribe for more stories about growing food, raising kids, and building community.

    Related Posts

    A First Day for Both of Us

    This morning I realized that for the first time in nearly six years, my son will spend more waking hours away from me than with me. Tomorrow, he starts Kindergarten—8 am to 3 pm, five days a week. That single fact tightens my chest with a swirl of emotions: pride at the boy he’s becoming, excitement…

    Keep reading