My husband and I (by the way, we just celebrated our 48th wedding anniversary) live on his deceased father’s farm here in Tecumseh, Oklahoma. There are a few pecan trees  …

As a child in suburban Michigan, I rarely interacted with animals. My mother, though, was raised on a farm and tells stories of riding horses, milking cows, and gathering dozens  …

September 1797. The boy would be dead before dawn. He was fifteen, more handsome already than his famously handsome father, who had turned back toward New York City when he  …

It was my intention to take the bottles to the redemption center, meet my friends Laura and Lauren for lunch, and then come home. It took me ten hours. You  …

One of my earliest memories is my father using a pitchfork to remove straw that had been placed on the garden bed over Winter. He talked about new life and  …

I am not sure if I could be considered a successful gardener or not. I certainly have the desire, and I spend my fair share of time working around the  …

It was May, when plants grow inches a day and gardeners abandon spouses and kids for shovels and trowels. Tim was plant-shopping at the garden center. His pulse quickened when  …

I suppose there are one or two people out there somewhere who are so perfectly organized that they actually keep all their gardening equipment in one easy-to-reach spot.  …

In summer the sun sets due west of us over Lake Champlain and spends most of the afternoon shining in our kitchen windows—and, incidentally, spends the lion’s share of the  …

One morning in early Spring, a scruffy-looking, short-haired, gray-and-white cat showed up on my front porch. I really didn’t want to adopt a pet, so I did not feed or  …