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Kim Melton

Gardening in the blood?

As leaves start to fall and I swaddle my garden in rows of spun plastic to protect it from night frosts, I am exploring my family connection to gardening. Perhaps it’s because I feel a little alone sometimes, a spur way out on the family tree with little connection to roots that lie in other countries and cultures.

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Batten down the hatches

I feel tumbled up against the advance of winter. All summer, the sun pulled me on with the force of a tearaway sled dog and, when the days shortened into fall, it was as if she slowed suddenly to sniff out a piece of news and I...

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Let the harvest begin

A couple of weeks ago, I was stayed in my tracks as I was strolling by one of our apple shelters. They’re coming, my nose told me as the fragrance of ripe fruit wafted out of the open door. I poked my head in. As luck would have...

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