"There is no wound that time in the garden can't heal."
At the risk of sounding emotionally drippy, this garden is so much more to me than probably to most. It represents new life in its most raw form. It is my church. It is where I was baptized a second time, changing from the...
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I don’t think it is prideful to say that Pan and I have cultivated some fine soil. In fact, our mixture of pure Georgia red clay (a light sand element) with rich, black, dirt from the county yard waste “dump,” produces an amazing bit of earth that if allowed to sit for a few...
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Pan and I have been so proud of our raised onion bed this year. We planted just at 90 white onions (from the bulb) to start our gardening season off. They were the first to go into the ground and have amazed us at their growth.
2 weeks old here
6 weeks old here
But this past...
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We can all think of times when we have been at a function or gathering and we looked around only to think to ourselves, “They’re not from around here.” It is often used to dismiss those we don’t feel comfortable being in the same socio-political arena with. But then there are those times when we...
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When the garden is planted and the strawberries aren’t quite ripe for picking and the corn has been sown and there is little else worth doing on a Saturday morning it is a safe bet that quite a few folks can be found heading to the lake or the pond to do a little...
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…one seed at a time!
HAHAHAHAHAHAH. Sometimes I even make myself laugh. It’s a DIY that is explored in newspapers, magazines and on blogs year after year, after year. I have realized that there is no tried and true way of planting a garden. Sure you need good soil, you need a bit of compost,...
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Now that everyone and everything is completely immersed in “going green” (or at least it seems that way from an advertising and media standpoint), it seems rather obvious that one of the main areas of focus is the food we consume, how it was grown, and where it comes from. When you eat locally...
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No yard, farm, homestead, barn, or house is ever finished. It simply isn’t. You can hang up your hammer. You can set the last post. You can feed the last animal but the only one consistent is that the task is never done. It seems a cruel law in the spirit of Murphy. It...
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I was sincerely hoping that by this time of year I would have several posts up about the transformation of brown, dead, winter-laden grass transitioning into wonderful blades of summertime glory. I was hoping that I would have several sets of Flickr pics showing our gardens decorated with little sprouts as if the dirt...
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One year ago I looked into her eyes, I squeezed her hands just a bit and I said with all authority and conviction, “I do.” She returned the affirmation and we began what I now refer to as “the great adventure.”
Before getting married and moving back to rural, middle Georgia, I lived in Brooklyn,...
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