I used to garden, years ago. I used to write, not so long ago. Maybe reconnecting with the dirt will reconnect me with my pen.

I sweat and my joints ache from the work, but the soil is rich and friable, the foliage lush, and the colorful blooms fragrant. Relearning plant names feeds my love of language.

My primary blog, neglected for several months, is Longleaf Stories. It is a living memoir of life with my beloved husband, Buck, and our home in a Longleaf pine preserve near Pensacola, Florida.

Following some health challenges and the prospects of growing old, Buck and I listed our home and ninety acres with a local realtor last September. Happily, (yes, much to our surprise — happily), only three prospects came to look, and there were no offers. Since then, while we understand the day will come when sale of the wonderful home we’ve dubbed “The Mansion,” is wise if not inevitable, for now we’re going to stay. In fact, we’re planting gardens and more trees.

Since  our home is in a clearing in the midst of a forest and a third of a mile from the front farm gate, no one can drive by and see the house. Plus, there’s a healthy deer population that sometimes has a taste for flowers. We’ve never landscaped. Oh, I made a bed right in front of the house a few years ago and made a sort of cottage garden for herbs, annuals and a few perennials, but every Spring it had to be reimagined. There was no structure. Now, with the help of Buck and a drawing from Tena O’Daniel of Floral Tree Gardens, there is structure and a beautiful beginning.  Special thanks to “Meems” at Hoe and Shovel, whose inspiring blog lit the spark.

Thanks for visiting,


If you have a garden and a library, you have everything you need. –Cicero

Imagine a small wicker basket for your thoughts.

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