I’d been feeling a little blue, and losing the lucky frog didn’t help. It happened when I cleaned out the bird bath. The lucky frog sits on a broken paver in the middle of the bird bath, and I’d set it down or dropped it somewhere when I scrubbed the green slime from inside the bath, switching out the paver for a fresh stone for the birds to perch on.  READ MORE

My fondness of dirt started when I was very young: making dirt tracks for matchbox cars (and leaving them out in the rain), building mudpies by the creek (then pouring water on them to watch them melt away)—and more.  READ MORE

"Go to work, go to work, go to work, go to work," chants the silent mantra in my head. While these words are ostensibly meant for my husband, Ed, I refrain from uttering them aloud.  READ MORE

In the heart of a quaint town, where stone walls held stories, and ancient fields whispered secrets, my 12-year-old self embarked on a journey both ordinary and extraordinary.  READ MORE

It's been an interesting year, to say the least. They say that when life gives you lemons, you make lemonade. Well, I found myself in a lemon grove without a juicer. But amidst the challenges, a story of resilience emerged, intertwined with the journey of some rather unexpected garden companions.  READ MORE

I recruited my granddaughters to paint the sign. Sofi, the 10-year-old, was enthusiastic and started right away to take the paints from the cabinet. Bella, the 12-year-old, was skeptical.  READ MORE

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, too, had been laid off. We had two children, ages 4 and 8.  READ MORE

They had just celebrated their 39th anniversary in April when Bill went for his annual checkup. Always in perfect health, he was unprepared for what the doctor found. Symptoms Bill had ignored as “old age” led to questions, palpations, more questions, and finally instructions for a battery of tests.  READ MORE

The last time I hosted the family Thanksgiving, my sister Sonia brought me a moth orchid. It was nothing special, although it was pretty, and a bit of a novelty in those days before orchids took over the floral department of every grocery store in America.  READ MORE

When I moved to a new community—Amana, Iowa—I suddenly found myself needing a new circle of friends. My job was out of town and my children out of school, so I knew friends might be hard to find.  READ MORE

My father was one of the greatest gardeners I have ever known. He wasn’t much for flowers. “You can’t eat flowers,” he always said. But he grew everything else—tomatoes, peppers, potatoes, asparagus, and so on. You name the crop, he knew the trick to make it grow.  READ MORE

Farming has shown me that when surrounded by the absolute worst of conditions, both people and plants will work hard to survive. When our part of California was struck by the disastrous firestorms in October, the lesson took on a whole new meaning.  READ MORE

It was insidious really, the seeds of flower love planted in my heart and soul when I was young and oblivious. My mother did it, and I think she did it on purpose.  READ MORE

The old fast food-joint was a great place until it burned down. At first, the gossip in the Scottish town was about how it happened. Was it arson or just old electrical wiring? Then folks wondered if it would start up again.  READ MORE

This morning I caught my breath when I found new shoots breaking through the soil on a St. John’s Wort I’d brought home from Oregon several weeks ago. I thought it had died.   READ MORE

What brought me back was the shed, but more than that, it was the seeds. The seeds, in their crisp little handmade packets, their names written in my grandfather’s neat, cursive hand.  READ MORE

My uncle was with the 8th Air Force in World War II. When he got out, he got into growing gladiolas. My dad was a Marine in Korea. When he became a civilian, fruit trees were his thing. I was a Marine in Vietnam from 1968 to 1969. When I came home, it took me years to realize what plants can do for you.  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

A million daisies have invaded my mother’s garden. They grow rampant among the phlox and delphinium, the lilies and the roses. She doesn’t want their scraggly disorder in her picture-perfect beds, but she cannot stand to kill anything, especially a flower.  READ MORE

My favorite Spring garden ritual is starting my tomato seeds. In late March, I fill ten little pots with a mixture of peat and earth-scented compost. Then I press down the spongy stuff and poke a hole in the middle of each pot, loving the feel of the dark fluff, even the bits that stay under my fingernails.  READ MORE

In the early summer after my freshman year of college, on a whim, I purchased a kit for growing coleus plants. It was a rectangular plastic container, with a yellow bottom and a clear top. There were markings for six holes in the top.   READ MORE