What a Joy! Within this special edition, you have the most wonderful garden stories from the last eight years of GreenPrints Magazine: the best of the best. What a joy it is to share these inspiring, heartwarming, and hilarious stories with you.  READ MORE 

Andrew Normand: From Shropshire, United Kingdom: “I am a school teacher, father, and general dogsbody (worker) in my wife’s allotment.” Kathy Chapman: Kathy is a reformed systems analyst (and—see Issue No. 92—hockey fan!) gardening in New York’s Finger Lakes. Her work appeared in GreenPrints Issues 92 and 99.  READ MORE 

Once there was a lady who was determined to grow her own vegetables to feed her young family. She had no space at home, so went to her local allotment to ask about a plot.  READ MORE 

As a volunteer master gardener for our local Cooperative Ex­tension Service, I'm often asked, "Is this plant a weed or a flower?" Of course, the horticulturally correct answer is, "A weed is just the right plant in the wrong place." After all, one gardener's succulent, peppery salad green is another gardener's rampant, invasive, strangulation machine-even though both gardeners are referring to purslane.  READ MORE 

I’ll bet you’re going to go home now and have a glass of wine." That’s what I said to my friend Deb after we toured my slightly chaotic prairie gardens. “Oh, no,” she replied, “I’m going to need the whole bottle!” We giggled. Deb is my compulsive, type-A friend.  READ MORE 

Dad flower gardened with enthusiasm and curiosity. It didn’t matter if plants were pass-alongs, came from purchased seed, or were just happy accidents—he enjoyed them all. Dad’s color blindness made for some entertaining combinations.   READ MORE 

If you picture the Queen of England living in metro Detroit, you would have an accurate picture of my Nana. She is quite elegant and proper, and she always makes time for a cup of tea.  READ MORE 

Years and years ago, my sister and I attended an all-day gardening workshop. Newly married city girls who now lived in houses with big backyards, we jumped right in. My sister called me soon after with alarming news.  READ MORE 

Find an open spot of ground. If one does not exist, use shovel, repurposed polaski, and a pair of heavy gloves to tear out one of the myriad of sand sages.  READ MORE 

Crack! sang the bat as the ball—now a mere white speck—sailed over the 360-foot sign in left center field. What a great swing. The kid sure could play ball.  READ MORE 

I was invited to a wedding happening the next Wednesday. When you go to a wedding, you dress your best. You do your hair, wear lovely clothes, polish your shoes—and don’t forget your fingernails! Well, my hair could wait until the last minute. I had a new dress hanging ready in the closet. My shoes were shined. But my fingernails …  READ MORE 

Dad, I still don’t know where all those wildflowers came from the year you came to live with me in California.  READ MORE 

The thing about growing asparagus is, if you think you might be craving a plate of the supple steamy spears smothered in cheese sauce on a warm Spring day three or four years from now, you should get it in the ground today.  READ MORE 

I’m looking for a Boyfriend Plant,” I say to the tall, handsome nursery worker who asks if he can help me. I’d been checking him out for about a month now—no wedding ring in sight—and finally got up the nerve to make an attempt at flirting.  READ MORE 

For 25 years, my husband and I have gardened, composted, and planted natives on a quarter acre in our small Oregon city. We shaped the yard into zones, raising veggies, building a greenhouse, creating sunny lawns, growing apples and planting wildflowers under the shade of tall Douglas firs.  READ MORE 

Most of my gardener friends work in their flowerbeds in the morning. But until I recently retired, my work schedule dictated that gardening was an evening pursuit. I would head out back after dinner to bustle among the bushes until it was too dark to spot another weed.  READ MORE 

The neighbor’s cat was on our deck railing, and it was obvious from the way he stood—crouched, head bent, still—that he was up to no good. I slid open the patio door and stepped outside to check. There, directly under his nose, was a plump, gray-and-brown tree frog.   READ MORE 

As I get older, I look back on my childhood and all the outdoor adventures my siblings and I were so fortunate to share. We were able to ramble and explore the woods and fields near our home, and one of my fondest memories brings me to my first love of flowers.  READ MORE