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.
A lovely handwritten letter recently slid through our mail slot. The letter had been sent to thank us for our most recent issue.
This, as I have been told by the esteemed staff of Chicagoland Gardening magazine, is the Ideas Issue.
When David Van Zelst comes home after a busy day running his landscaping business, he likes to cook. No surprise there, …
You might have noticed, as you were reading through this magazine, that there are stories about the birds and the bees (which...
For vegetable gardeners, straw bale gardening may be the best innovation since sliced bread.