Among the functionality of my Fortress Garden, I’ve dabbled in bits of pretty things to make my growing season that much more enjoyable.
A trip to the lumberyard helped me quickly learn the difference between dirt and soil—and yes, there is a difference.
A game of seek-and-find with my broody hen didn’t produce the results that the poor girl probably wanted.
In a climate where you can garden year-round, you can’t depend on winter to do the dirty work for you.
Pairing these unlikely produce combinations in the garden could mean averting future disaster.
As I dream of a stately vintage tractor posing on my property, I depend to a simple, lightweight chicken tractor to perform my garden tilling.
I’m turning my annoyance toward weeds into delicious meals, one wild green at a time.
On one inconspicuous day at the farmers’ market began my love affair, though the object of my affection isn’t quite what you’d expect.
Manure is a garden godsend—cat dung, however, should be reserved for the litter box.
The hens in our charter flock turned me from chicken agnostic to borderline obsessed. The Girls, as we call them, have officially achieved family status.