The last few weeks … months … have been busy for me, and it hasn't always been in a good way. Once upon a time, if something needed doing, I was your girl. I'd fix it. I'd work myself to death trying to make it right. I'd jump through ten thousand hoops to make sure that everyone and everything in my life was taken care of. Those days are gone. I walked into the spare room greenhouse this morning and it looked like I was walking into a war zone. Because amidst the chaos of th

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.