Writing Ain’t For Sissies
I used to say “Gardening ain’t for sissies.” I’d watch joggers go by in their cute outfits, ponytail swinging in the breeze. They’d offer a friendly wave if they spotted me up to my elbows in compost. I’d return the salute with my spade and clench my teeth as I growled under my breath, “Whimp!” [..Read more]