Cool Beans
Oh, the sweet taste of irony in the morning. When I was a kid, my dad turned our backyard into a thriving quarter-acre vegetable…
Call to action
I’ll be brief because privileged white people have said far too much for far too long. But Dr. King warned about the silence of…
What comes around
Brad took me to Dew Point Farm last week to show off the fruits of his labor. They were strewn about our feet in…
Un-Common
Anyone who’s traveled with me knows I’m crazy about birds. Boating across The Netherlands, friends laughed at my incessant waterfowl photography (quickly dubbed Duck…
The Ten Percent
Remember the intense conversations you had as a twentysomething about things that mattered: literature, philosophy, social justice, cake versus yeast doughnut? If you’re like…
Trial by Fire
My sister-in-law likes to say she’s a collard not a marigold, meaning she prefers cold weather over hot. I, on the other hand, am…
Pestinsides
For years, Brad and I have been members of Georgia Organics because we believe that food should be: fresh from the tree/stalk/vine to which…
Sow and Behold
“It’s like you’ve been magically transported back to 1995.” So my sister says, after my new job at Jenny Jack Farm began back in March. Three days a week, I’m in the field or greenhouse, with intermittent phone coverage and no internet access. And the last thing I want to do in the evening is clear spam out of the inbox, which means I typically log on only two days a week.
Fair Market Value
Food can bring us together. This much I know. But in our neighborhood and many others like it, there’s an inexcusable divide that needs…