gardening

As a lifelong passionate gardener and one who has always appreciated and respected nature, I thought I was doing a pretty good job of protecting and preserving it, too. That is, until I became more aware of the things I could be doing better to lighten my footprint in my own little corner of the world.

Long before Gregor Mendel's groundbreaking work in plant genetics, the cloth weavers of England were changing the primrose. Workers who had woven textiles collectively fell in love with Primula auricula, a finicky European alpine species that they grew in little pots. The small perennials could be enjoyed outside the window on a shelf or in a window box.

Each year my company scours the planet in search of the newest, coolest and best gardening gear and gadgets. The longer we do this, the harder it is to find those must-have items. In fact, this year was the first time we didn't certify our usual top 10 items. But the show must go on.

Some of the best marriages result when you cross a slash-and-burn person with a bean counter. These very different approaches to life complement each other for a sustainable, well-rounded partnership. The slash-and-burn personality is spontaneous, energetic and gets things done, but is likely to overlook details.

I've thrown away thousands of color slides because the light wasn't right, the image was crooked or it was simply too far away. That cost me big bucks because I bought expensive film, and sent it out to expensive processing. Often only a few keepers came with each roll, and the rest of them were garbage.

While getting ready to take the stage for my presentation at the recently downsized Southeastern Flower Show in Atlanta, my cell phone suddenly started going nuts, with e-mails, text messages and phone calls.

Although we talk a big game when it comes to gardening more organically, we're not following through, according to the latest findings from the Garden Writers Association. I serve on the committee that formulates the questions and tracks consumer trends in lawn and garden.

It was a Depression baby introduced to the United States in 1929.

In referring to my book title, "The Green Gardener's Guide," someone asked me recently, "Aren't all gardens green?" That simple yet serious question stopped me in my tracks. Little did he realize how well he summarized the incorrect assumption of millions of gardeners out there today.

On an Italian mountainside long ago, the elite of the Roman Empire offered animal sacrifices to the gods. When it rained, the byproducts of these burnt offerings flowed down the slope, mingling ash and fat together before they finally dumped into the Tiber River. It was along these riverbanks that frothy bubbles appeared, which indicated this combination had turned the runoff into soap.