I've been thinking a lot lately about how this year's garden turned out and where it may be headed in 2012. While I begin to dog-ear catalog pages for seeds I want to buy, my mind goes back to where it all started.

This small piece of land was an oasis for me when I was a child. In it, my father taught me basics about annuals, perennials and concrete statuary to make up for our non-native wildlife in the city.  Over time, we created the path that is shown in the photo below. He was the muscle power, driving multiple pounds of white rock to our garden (and killing the struts on our station wagon in the process) as he attempted to create bigger and better raised beds. (He actually grew better roses then I do today- I don't remember his having blackspot!) What I didn't learn in that garden I learned in my grandfather's, where he grew tomatoes and pumpkins along his property line and the railroad tracks. He taught me to love the smell of tomatoes warmed by the sun, and to enjoy the pucker of the tart cherries from his trees. Some of my favorite memories of my childhood have taken place in those gardens. 

I had no idea what was in store!

Here's to a happy and healthy new year in 2012 - may your garden fill your heart with lasting memories and may your roses not get blackspot!


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