The gardening year that is coming to a close here in northeast Pennsylvania was like no other. More than ever, I am grateful to live on a piece of land where I can grow food. It is not enough to sustain us yet enough to fill a freezer chest and several shelves of canning jars. Continue reading
If there is anything I can do to avoid food waste, I’ll do it. While I am not as extreme as my German grandmother who saved every single scrap, her ways definitely shaped me (which you can read about in more detail here). Continue reading
Last summer slugs decimated the strawberry harvest from my garden. This year I was prepared. Or so I thought. I had a bag of diatomaceous earth stand by, and an old salt shaker to spread it around the plants. But there were no slugs. Instead, chipmunks discovered the strawberry patch and took a bite out of every single ripe strawberry. Continue reading
What I probably miss most living in rural America is the exposure to other cultures. I never regretted having moved for love from bustling New York City with its multitude of ethnicities to a tiny hamlet in a county with a highly homogenous population. I did many things on our mountaintop that I would have never done in an urban setting – first and foremost, I became a gardener. But that does not mean that I ever stopped missing the diversity I was seeking when I emigrated to America: people who, like me, came from another country, and with their background and traditions contribute to the rich cultural fabric of America. Continue reading
