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The dull ache in my lower back from hauling heavy terracotta pots across the greenhouse yesterday still has not faded. My hands are rough, and there is still a stubborn…
My lower back still aches when I recall the spring of 2002. I spent three days hoisting forty-pound terracotta pots into a knee-deep concrete pond, only to watch the water…
My lower back still aches from hauling a bucket of river stones up my muddy garden path yesterday afternoon. That is the unglamorous truth of this life; gardening is heavy,…
I still carry a faint, silver scar on my left thumb from a humid afternoon back in 2009. I was trying to score a stubborn green Riesling bottle with a…
My lower back still aches when I recall the spring of 2005. I was trying to acclimatize a delicate batch of broad-leafed tropicals to a dry, wind-swept courtyard, and they…
We need to talk about the mud first. If you have ever dragged a heavy, glazed ceramic pot across a concrete patio only to realize it has a hairline crack,…
My lower back still aches when I recall the summer of 2005. I was desperately trying to keep a collection of delicate tropical foliage alive in a wind-scoured, dry clay…
My knees still ache when I think about my first major moss landscaping attempt in the spring of 2005. I spent three grueling weeks kneeling on cold, wet gravel, trying…
My back still aches when I think about the spring of 1998. I had just lost a collection of rare orchids to overwatering, a mistake that still stings my pride.…
The garden is quiet now, and the vibrant blues, deep purples, and smoky bronzes of the iris display have faded into memory. What remains is a somewhat untidy patch of…
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