Here it is Palm Sunday and my forsythia is beginning to show some yellow. I have no facts, but it seems particularly late.
My wonderful crew of young people and I spent all last week moving mountains of wood chips, compost and loam with wheelbarrows. It hurt midweek to...
When Violet and I arrived home after dark in the pouring (and I mean pouring) rain we discovered the hen house door had blown shut. None of the...
Winter simply is not ready to let go. As I continue to plant like a crazy person, I take comfort in the fact that Polly Hill started the arboretum...
How interesting that our traditions bind us to our past. Most years I try to plant a few potatoes on St. Patrick’s Day to have some sort of...
I managed to kill several flats of onion seedlings. I put them outdoors into an unheated hoop house too early. I can’t decide if I froze them or...
I’ve been catching up on my reading, actually getting to sections of the newspaper I usually skim.
With a gate out of commission, the chickens have had their way with the property. The last straw was finding broken hellebores flowers.
I hate to buy fresh produce when I can grow anything on my own. We should all be thinking along these lines. Besides shoveling and tending the...

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