I love digging my hands into dirt. Breaking up rich, sticky clumps and pushing through the top layers to make room for a new plant, I feel connected to earth, sun, and seasons. I find it miraculous that a teeny-tiny seed when planted and nurtured becomes a plant that produces food.
It’s been crazy cold and snowy here in Minnesota this winter. Those who don’t live here probably think that’s nothing new, but we’ve been spoiled for a while now with mild, almost snowless winters. Time to get our Minnesotan back on! The chickens are hanging in there, thanks to the addition of a heat light…
There’s little risk in becoming overly proud of one’s garden because gardening by its very nature is humbling. It has a way of keeping you on your knees. –– Joanne Barwick I didn’t say all that much about my garden this year. I guess I was too busy being a Master Gardener… I’m still brown bag ripening…
“I thrust my hands into the cool rich soil, the moss like fur between cracks of the bricks I want to roll like a big dog and shake free.” — Marge Piercy, “Shad blow” I think “Shad blow” is my favorite Marge Piercy poem that I’ve read so far. It’s about the season of Spring…
Oh, if only it was that easy. Just follow the arrow and there it is, a lovely, lush interior garden. “Interior Gardens” is the name of the hydroponics and organic garden supply store I visited this weekend. While I pursue a lush exterior garden, I long most for lushness within. Instead, I am more like…
