I’m not alone in my admiration for strawberries. In ancient Rome, the strawberry symbolized Venus, the Goddess of Love, because of its heart shape and color. In medieval times, stone masons carved strawberries on altars and churches because they symbolized perfection and righteousness. Much more recently—last month, in fact—strawberries have become my ticket to sanity, a means of dealing with the stress of the ongoing pandemic.
Read MoreAllium sativum, or garlic, is my spirit vegetable. It’s my way of expressing massive appreciation for this plant, which I have used as a medicine, an herbal flavoring, a culinary staple, and a standalone treat. Its fans are legion, gathering at events like the Gilroy Garlic Festival in California, the state that grows the vast majority of the country’s garlic (most of which is then dehydrated into powder for processed food), and the North Quabbin Garlic & Arts Festival in central Massachusetts, where heirloom varieties from small farms reign supreme.
Read MoreI really hate weeding. There are days it requires all the strength I have to get out there and pull these tough tufts of green from between my rows of carefully tended beans and peas. But there are reasons to like weeds, or at least respect them.
Read MoreWhen I moved to the Pacific Northwest eight years ago to start a market farm, it was my first experience growing food on a large scale. My focus was on planting organic crops and finding enough customers to eat them. It took only a couple of years to add a new farm priority: managing the area’s extreme weather challenges.
Read MoreWhen I got out of bed this morning I checked the weather report. It’s the first thing I do every day. When you grow food, the weather assumes a make-or-break urgency that defines your life. It also forever changes the way you relate to a forecast. I never hear “early frost” without worrying it could interrupt my ripening tomatoes, or “heat spike” without fretting over wilting spinach.
Read MoreA healthy Honey Bee population contributes to our health and environment in many ways, not least of which is the way they pollinate fruits, vegetables, and nuts. But Honey Bees, which were domesticated and brought from Europe in the 17th century and have been intentionally managed since, aren’t the only pollinators out there. Often left out of the conversation are the countless other bee species that make your juicy late summer tomato dreams a reality.
Read MoreNobody likes to weed. It’s easy to romanticize growing your own food until you try scrubbing the dirt out from underneath your fingernails after a long afternoon pulling little weeds from in between your radishes, only to see them sprout up again a week later. But there’s no way to avoid them, and with a few quick tips you can at least minimize how much time you spend weeding.
Read MoreWhen I was growing up I often spent muggy afternoons with my grandmother after school tucked away in the back of her garden, cutting twigs into small pieces for the compost pile. I never grasped the importance of what we were doing as a kid but loved chatting with her until the sun dipped below the horizon. As I grew older, I grew to appreciate my grandmother's productive garden. Her hydrangeas always bloomed, her plump tomatoes grew on sturdy vines, and weeds were never a problem. The secret to her success was the compost we made from those twigs, plus garden clippings, leaves and food scraps.
Read MoreSpreading mulch is one of my favorite farm chores. I love the way mulch smells and feels and looks. That moment my pitchfork pierces the heaping mound of leftover grass and leaves and steam spirals up into the cool morning air. The way the strong, lingering scent of cedar follows me home after a day spent spreading wood chips. The satisfying look of a tidy, weed-free field after I’ve laid down a sea of straw to cover the endless rows of potatoes and garlic. I even appreciate the sogginess of cardboard left out in the rain before it’s used to fight weeds along my garden paths.
Read MoreMy dark winter nights are generally spent curled next to a fire devouring every seed catalog that can fit into my mailbox. Dreaming of the tomatoes, peas, and corn I’ll plant in the spring helps me survive the blistering cold winter here in New Hampshire.
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