In July 1972, they moved with their baby boy to a crumbling farmhouse on a dirt road and immediately got to work. She cleared cobwebs in the cellar while he made shelves from old barn boards. Like
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“I won’t plant vegetables this year,” I told my two sons this winter. I said it often to convince myself. I’ve grown vegetables since 1970, but the weeds were more persistent than I was last year. The
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We walked through a maze of flowered paths in Montreux, Switzerland. My husband Vic rolled a ball with our young son David so I could talk with Paul Brunton, the elderly philosopher we’d come to visit. In 1973 during our
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Every fall, I decide it’s silly to grow vegetables. It takes too much time. It isn’t cost effective. By February, I thumb through catalogs and order organic seeds. I can’t help myself. When the sun warms the soil, I
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Go outside and plant, a wise voice in me said. You need flowers. Garden plants sat on the porches and at the side of the house. They were hardened off and ready to go in the ground. Part
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“Do something you used to love, even if you don’t care about it right now,” my son David advised the spring after his dad died. “Then something you always loved will be waiting for you.” Gardening has
Read more →In September 1968, Vic and I rented a barely winterized cottage on Cayuga Lake. The next spring, we splurged on a canoe. As we explored the lake, Vic paddled and steered from the stern, while I practiced
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