Every single August, it happens like clockwork. I look out at my backyard beds and feel a heavy wave of exhaustion. The soil looks completely baked, pale, and dusty, almost like concrete mix. My summer tomatoes took everything the ground had to give, leaving the dirt totally spent. After nearly two decades of making a
I’ve spent the last two decades with my hands in the dirt, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that nature has a funny way of humbling you just when you think you’ve got it figured out. This post is about one of those humbling moments—specifically, the time I decided to “go vertical” and
I’ve spent about 18 years pushing the limits of what you can actually grow in small spaces. I’ve lived in places with sprawling backyards and places where my “garden” was a 4×10 concrete slab five stories up. If there is one thing I’ve learned, it’s that most people treat their balconies like a storage closet
If you’ve ever stared at a bag of “premium garden soil” at the big-box store and winced at the price, this is for you. I’m going to show you how to stop throwing away money (literally, in your trash can) and start making the richest, darkest soil you’ve ever seen. I’ve been playing in the
I remember sitting on my tiny balcony about fifteen years ago, staring at a single, sad-looking tomato plant in a plastic pot. I had this grand vision of a lush, Italian-style terrace overflowing with greens and heavy fruit. Instead, I had a sun-scorched vine and a lot of concrete. I thought, “There’s just no way