Sheet Mulching for Spring

"Wait. Let me get this straight. You want me to throw all this trash in your garden." That's what Melvin said when I asked him to cover my little fenced area with cardboard boxes and a pile of fallen limbs. I decided at the end of the growing season that I was going to break down all the grass in The Secret Garden and convert the entire area to a production garden. I had been saving up boxes from all my various deliveries. Rather than send them off to a landfill, they head to the... Continue reading

Black flies and earwigs and spiders, oh my!

What is it with us bipeds? One glimpse of a little creature that squirms, wriggles, or crawls about on numerous legs, and we lose our minds as we reach for swatters and brooms and spray bottles. We could really do a better job of choosing our battles. When we relocated to our current property we inherited a beautiful array of gardens from the previous owners. Much thought and planning must have gone into the works. In the tradition of the cottage garden, the closely packed blooming... Continue reading

What’s Next for the Secret Garden

I began this series with the first post on March 1st. In case anyone reading this article has been living in a cave or is just out of a coma, COVID-19 has thrown a wrench in just about everyone's works. I had intended to post regular updates on the progress of the Secret Garden, but I have been busy... well, gardening. Soil has been the only balm for the anxiety, remorse, and frustration of dealing with the fallout of a pandemic. I am so fortunate to still have my job and a nice place to... Continue reading

Balance – It’s the Best

Pandemics and Gardening I love to garden. I am not necessarily great at it. But it is, most certainly, great for me. With one caveat. Balance. Planting, constructing, working with seed, reveling in the sites and sounds of the outdoors: this has been all I have been able to do. It takes me away from fear and panic in this unbelievable reality we are all sharing. ThrushBluebird dadEscapee All the while, my house is a mess, my brushes lay idle by my easel, my guitars sit lonely and... Continue reading