Yay! I’m glad I could be helpful!
Assuming I save about twenty seeds from each fruit, that will still leave me with way more than I want to plant in a year. I may not even plant one seed from every fruit, since I have so many of them. (I mean, I have sixty mature zucchinis a.k.a. marrows, and I don’t need sixty zucchini plants . . .)
My plan is to have three boxes, and all my seeds need to fit into one of them.
Box one is slightly smaller than a shoebox. It goes in my fridge, and it’s my seed stash. Everything I want to keep for my personal use goes in there.
Box two will be much smaller. It’s for archiving past years of my garden. My computer got fried by lightning when I was a teenager, before I knew about surge protectors or understood the importance of backups. I have since had other surprise computer failures. So safely archiving my creative works is important to me. Seeds that come from my garden are creative works.
Box three is the largest. It sits on a bookshelf at room temperature, and contains all extra seeds that I don’t need. Those are the ones for sharing, and for sowing in unfavorable conditions to see if I can shake out any magnificent survivors that I want contributing genes to my landrace. I plan to rotate all the seeds out within a year of putting them in, so they will always be fresh.
And speaking of plants that survive harsh conditions – here’s a thought to consider.
In Breed Your Own Vegetable Varieties, Carol Deppe says that a lone survivor might have had better genetics than the other plants around it, or it may have just been lucky and had slightly better conditions. She’s absolutely right.
But there’s a third possibility too, one that I think wasn’t well understood when she wrote that book around the year 2000, and it may be profoundly important.
Epigenetics can be influenced by environmental factors, and they can be inherited. When you get a plant that survives tough conditions that kills others around it, you may not be discovering a diamond in the rough – you may be creating one.