I didn’t grow up dreaming of a garden, but I did grow up around one.
My parents worked full-time, owned a coffee shop, and somehow still managed to grow half the produce aisle in our backyard; chickens included. I, on the other hand, was far too busy climbing the pear tree and racing the streetlights home to care.
Fast-forward a few decades, six spinal fusions, and three kids later, and suddenly, I get it.
Three years ago, we left the city for two acres of quiet chaos.
Hubby travels for our construction business, my oldest son works alongside him, and my teen left for college so most days, it’s me and one very feral toddler holding down the fort. Somewhere between the weeds and snack negotiations, gardening became more than a hobby, it became therapy; a reminder that slowing down and nurturing something (plants, children, myself) matters.
Then came the dahlias.
Dramatic. Bold. Unpredictable. My kind of plant.
They start as knobby little tubers that need a lot of care, but when they bloom? Total showstoppers!
Their hollow stems remind me that even the strongest things sometimes need support and I felt that.
Now here I am: one mom, one toddler, and one patch of land learning, growing, and laughing through it all.
Some days it’s peaceful. Some days it’s chaos. And some days, I’m just trying to keep everything, including myself, alive.
But every day, something grows. Flowers. Kids. Maybe even me.
If you’re here reading this... thank you. For taking a minute out of your day to stop by, learn a little about us, and maybe share a laugh or some inspiration.
This space isn’t perfect, it’s real. It’s dirt under my nails, coffee gone cold, and joy in the little things. If anything here reminds you to slow down, breathe, or see the beauty in your own messy garden, then it’s all worth it.
Here’s to growing good things! in our gardens, in our homes, and in ourselves.
♡ Jo
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