Have you known parents who refuse to discipline their child for fear that they may "break their spirit?" I don't know about you, but I generally like most children, until I cross paths with one who's spirit has yet to be broken. I can't get away fast enough. Their cuteness teeters on obnoxious, until their dominating presence becomes completely unbearable. I can't stand those kids and look to the parents and wonder what the hell they're thinking. Last night, I imagined that's what other gardeners must be thinking when they see my front bed and the cute, soft, pretty little thug that's swallowed the entire planting. Stachys byzantine 'Silver Carpet', aka Lamb's ears, is my spirited child. Last night I ruled with an iron fist, and a pitch fork, as I began the arduous task of putting it ...
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Weeding is a Cinch with the Hula-Ho
*I was not compensated for this product review. All opinions are my own.* The thought of weeding bugs me. It's like dishes, laundry and dog poop. My garden is rarely without weeds. Yours is probably that way too so we should feel better since misery loves company. Once the urge comes over me to get in there and weed though, I'm like a woman possessed. Putting a dent in the weed population is an incredibly satisfying, albeit fleeting, feeling. Sorta like the one I get from drowning hundreds of Japanese beetles. A weed free garden is a pipe dream, as they return as certainly as the dog will poop, the sink will fill and the kids will load their laundry baskets in a day or two. At least with weeding, I get a break in the winter. This August, I attended the Independent Garden Center ...
What To Do With So Many Jalapenos?
I'm not going to pretend to be a canning pro. If you're looking for advice on that, please look elsewhere. For me, canning is a problem solver and, this early in the game, an experiment. I have more homegrown vegetables than I know what to do with! We should all have such problems, right? But, more specifically, I have more jalapenos than we can possibly eat. Unlike the cherry tomatoes they pop in their mouthes passing through the kitchen, the kids aren't reaching for the jalapenos. My husband, however, is a different story. You say "hot pepper" and he starts salivating much like I do when I hear "chocolate." He's a heat addict and until recently, would eat them like one would a banana. His tolerance blows my mind and I grew the jalapenos just for him. The problem is, his stomach ...
