If you close your eyes can you conjure up a roaring fire? Can you feel your muscles relaxing as they soak up heat from a roaring fire? Can you feel the bone and soul-penetrating warmth of wood? That’s what I thought of while I was perched on top of a three-story house one freezing, black… Read More
Imagine endless rows of fields of corn on a modern farm. Now let the rows turn into endless pink flowers. Sounds pretty right? On our little farm, which specializes in one type of lily, we could grow that way. But like the small farms that sustained and built this country, here, diversity is key. Diversity… Read More
Neon purple flowers for late summer through fall. I named this plant for horticulturist Jim Martin and of course for my favorite birds.
I sat down at the bar at Hunter Gather alone. It’s warm and dark, the kind of place strangers talk. A few other farmers, craftsmen, tradesmen types were always there at 4 p.m. One time, I was telling some guy a story. I’d explained how my farm is an hour out of town and that… Read More
On a hot October Saturday, family had gathered to bury my youngest cousin. It was on the funeral home front porch that first cousin twice removed, Bill, started a conversation. Sitting in a rocking chair, a tiny plate of deviled eggs in his football player lap, I guessed he was about 75. He was almost… Read More
Pay attention, indulge, wait and be delighted. This month my buddy’s pre-teen boy is into magic. He’s been through Egyptian mythology, dinosaurs and bigfoot. His dad’s endless patience amazes me. The magic show commences with an elaborate introduction, “On the death-day of the great Houdini, I honor the risk he took to share magic… Read More
Gardening, painting, sculpting. Those things have something in common– they all start with imagination of something you’ll bring to fruition. A vision. Sometimes these really hot days make me have visions. Stiffling hot. Swooningly hot. I chop some crinum down to the ground; it’ll be fine by fall, I think to myself. I weed, pulling… Read More
‘Funky Little Flower Farm’ stories include memories like my coming out, of being with my father on his deathbed and Momma’s memories of her grandparents. I want to share them, but I want control over how they get published now and forever. When I struck a book deal with a publisher for my first book,… Read More
The circular patio holds a 1,000 pound urn. We made it. It’s a seating bench, a place to rest a drink or plate and it is an urn for a Japanese Apricot tree. The earth-formed texture, (as well as patio texture) come from our farm’s clay, roots and thick weave burlap. In the sides, there… Read More
There’s a patch of paper whites and snow drops in our pasture that’s older than I am. Just behind the little shed that’s been pony shed, goat shed and now donkey shed. Those are the kinds of bulbs I want in my gardens. From a practical stand point, because they come back, they thrive and… Read More
