Some people are known as “glass half full” folks and some drift towards the “glass half empty” side. Personally, I’m a “Whoops! I’m sorry I just spilled that half glass of red wine all over your white lace tablecloth” kind of guy.
I know that many gardeners look at the coming year with anticipation. By January, the unspeakable, unending string of horticultural tragedies of the previous season have been relegated to the compost pile of history, figuratively and literally. (Or is that just my experience?) They view the world – which is pretty much limited to their patios, backyards and all-season deck chairs – with fresh eyes, convinced that this is the year that the porcelain berry vine that strangled their prize affenpinscher will be vanquished, that the heptacodium tree, which died under mysterious circumstances five years ago and which now resembles a hat rack for squirrels, will finally be removed (if only by a wind storm), and that the drainage issues that had them considering creating a rice paddy by the recycling bin will miraculously be alleviated by a climate-change-induced drought that begins in April and lasts through, oh, 2023.
You may have been told that bees are beneficial and that they pollinate a lot of agricultural crops. Most of the time when …
Did I ever mention that in my childhood I was severely traumatized when I happened to discover two snowflakes that were ...
Cantigny’s Project New Leaf has been all the buzz in the gardening community. I recently had the opportunity to tour the grounds
On a sunny winter day a few years ago, I strolled into our Palos-area garden looking for signs of snowdrops
"President Jimmy Carter once said that life is not fair. I’m not positive, but I don’t think he coined that phrase. I’m not pos