My garden burst into life over the weekend. What were tiny sprouts on May 2, at the largest, are now vigorous plants four inches high or more. The beans underwent an especially radical transformation. Even last Friday only one was even poking out of the ground, and now they've outstripped the peas.


( Read more... )

I grew up helping my parents grow a half-acre garden, and have missed gardening ever since. For the first time in a long time, I actually have space to plant a garden. The inauspicious-looking patch of pink tile in the picture below is the only part of the yard that gets halfway-decent sunlight. Over the break I dug up the tiles, mulched the soil ( ( Read more... )

I didn't realize it at the time, but I was incredibly fortunate to grow up on home-grown fruit and vegetables, and to have a whole half-acre yard (plus the half-acre yards of our two next-door neighbors) for my own uses. Sometimes late at night when I can't sleep, I begin to wax nostalgic about the dry canyon breezes and Utah crickets chirping in ( Read more... )