Sitting on our porch one summer afternoon, my friend glanced at our garden and cried out, “Ooooh! That is one of my favorite things to...

When we first moved into our fixer upper, the outside of the home looked like a haunted house—the limestone in front had blackened, the...

I was eleven years old and it was a glorious early spring day in the southern, rolling hills of Indiana. I walked down the street to play...

“. . . arriving at Moonacre possessing nothing in the world but the clothes on my back and ten flower-pots with cuttings of geraniums in...

Greetings from the mountains of New Mexico! In our new mountain garden we are busy restoring the long ago abandoned garden beds: weeding,...