“Ears” at the top - very pronounced lobes, sitting high and perky - that flow down into a slimmer waistline and then pooch out near the end in a way that anyone would immediately recognize as the “booty” of the leaf. Let's talk about them.

First, you have to have a great best friend. My SO, being the wonderful, thoughtful human that he is, runs marinas for a living. Lake life and all that good stuff. Then you just...build a trellis.

The other night my SO noticed the grow lights were still on in the spare room after he went to bed. This is something I'd never noticed, being a Benjamin Franklin-style early-to-bed human. He, on the other hand, stays up and does whatever it is people do who stay up late in the living rooms of suburban houses. Watch things, presumably. Exist in the dark. Anywho. Nobody knocked over the grow light. Allegedly. This is a mystery in three parts.

Working out of 1,000 square feet for a nursery is a constant challenge. I’ve reworked this room no less than three times so far, trying to balance space for repotting and maintenance with the massive light and airflow needs of the plants. It is generally anything but "Insta-worthy," but it’s where the magic happens.

I moved to Flowery Branch a little over six years ago, following my heart like a lovesick 30-something romantic. Our whirlwind summer dating got serious in October, and I got to experience my very first NE GA fall & winter roller-coaster in our suburban home. The house sits on ¾ of an acre or so, and anyone who has experienced the joys of fall and early winter around here knows one thing that I did not at the time: there are leaves. Lots and LOTS of leaves. (Like “we accident