Will My Old Seeds Grow?
There’s an unspoken sense of gratification that lingers when we carry old seeds. They remind us of our accomplishments, blunders, and silly garden memories we’d otherwise forget. While most gardeners store seeds “just in case”, as the years go by, we eventually ask ourselves whether it’s time to use them or lose them. But unfortunately, there isn’t much detailed information…
Soil Mineralization According to The Intelligent Gardener
Once upon a time, there was a Garden Guru named Steve Solomon, who grew loads and loads of fresh produce, wrote gardening books that people loved and referred to, and sold seeds. Life was good. Steve spent many happy hours in his garden, the fruits of which comprised a large percentage of his diet and that of his wife. He…
Lessons From My Maple Syrup Misadventure
I huddled in the dark wilderness listening to howling in the distance and poking at the amber flames of the fire I’d set in the bed of an old rusty wheelbarrow. On top was a pot full of bubbling liquid that I hoped would eventually be some fine and tasty maple syrup. Ok, the howling was from the neighbor’s dogs,…
Will My Old Seeds Grow?
There’s an unspoken sense of gratification that lingers when we carry old seeds. They remind us of our accomplishments, blunders, and silly garden memories we’d otherwise forget. While most gardeners store seeds “just in case”, as the years go by, we eventually ask ourselves whether it’s time to use them or lose them. But unfortunately, there isn’t much detailed information…
Soil Mineralization According to The Intelligent Gardener
Once upon a time, there was a Garden Guru named Steve Solomon, who grew loads and loads of fresh produce, wrote gardening books that people loved and referred to, and sold seeds. Life was good. Steve spent many happy hours in his garden, the fruits of which comprised a large percentage of his diet and that of his wife. He…
Lessons From My Maple Syrup Misadventure
I huddled in the dark wilderness listening to howling in the distance and poking at the amber flames of the fire I’d set in the bed of an old rusty wheelbarrow. On top was a pot full of bubbling liquid that I hoped would eventually be some fine and tasty maple syrup. Ok, the howling was from the neighbor’s dogs,…
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Lessons From My Maple Syrup Misadventure
I huddled in the dark wilderness listening to howling in the distance…
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