As I get older I remember my great-aunt, Auntie. All my other great-aunts were Aunt So-and-so, but she was always Auntie. She was, as she called it, “a maiden lady,”  …

I started gardening soon after my first miscarriage, though I didn’t understand it was a miscarriage until I had my second one, and I didn’t understand the timing of my  …

My dad loved to garden. He tried to grow everything that he could find in a seed packet. He planted the usual green beans, peas, corn, radishes, carrots, tomatoes, and  …

Back in 1973, I lived in Oregon. It was hard times. The state had been in a deep recession for several years. My husband was out of work, and I,  …

One day, my neighbor’s four-year-old daughter checked a picture book out of the library. The book told a story of how a simple seed turned into a beautiful flower.  …

I have become a lover of watering cans. And of rain barrels. As the dawn begins to creep through the drawn curtains, I resist the urge to snuggle under the  …

I am an inveterate salvager. When I married in 1950, I learned that a person could buy for next to nothing century-old furniture that would last another century or so.  …

When after almost a year away, I climbed back into my own bed, I immediately felt a sense of homecoming. My bed was, in the words of Goldilocks, “just right.”  …

I'd like to offer a warning about the myth of a “quick mulch job.” I should know that mulching is never as easy as I expect (isn’t this a universal  …

After my husband left, I was forced to take over his one chore—mowing. I figured, if he can do it, how hard can it be? We had just bought $800  …