Being a gardener means being a continuous learner. I’ve been gardening now for thirty years or so, mostly using the trial and error method. This year I’m wishing I had kept better notes about which soil I used and where we were in the moon cycle when I planted tomato

I’ve been giddy about spring arriving early in Kentucky. The first crocuses bloomed in my yard in February, followed by the snow drops and the daffodils. Now the purple finches have returned to the bird feeder and they ate a quarter of the seed in a month. I checked the

These days my cooking philosophy is to get creative with what I have in my kitchen. I started the new year with loaded potato soup, courtesy of the bounteous crop of potatoes that survived last year’s drought.

Gardening feeds my body and soul. That’s why it’s difficult to put the garden to bed at the end of the season. A couple of weeks ago, I walked around fallen walnuts in the yard to cut all of my chard, kale and beet greens, thinking that was it for

I don’t remember when I first tried sun-dried tomatoes, but I instantly loved them. I’ve never been a fan of fresh tomatoes; the texture and acidity don’t agree with me. But when tomatoes are dried, the flavor is concentrated into a delectable bite.

I joke that we’re going to start a fruit of the month club. The later part of May yielded strawberries. All of June was devoted to blueberry picking. July is looking like a sea of blackberries.