As a gardener, I have many things to confess. The ideal image of a person bending over neat rows with gloves, apron, hat and trowel, with that odd tiny rake sitting off to the side ready to be used (does anyone ever actually use that thing?) is not me. Not even close. Confession number 1: Clothes don’t make the gardener. I am the person who gets out of their car after work to “quickly” go check on a plant that has been on my mind, and is pulled out Read More …