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Anne Izard, Gardening, Revising, Apologizing

          Back when we lived in Pennsylvania we had a garden that was the bane of my existence. Most of our property was in the woods, in shade, but the people who lived in the house before us put in this large perennial garden right by the road. It was filled with wildflowers, exotic things that looked like weeds. Or were they weeds? I asked every friend who gardened to help me figure out what to pull, what to keep. I had no memory for flowers, a brown thumb, and Jon was no better. We were … Continue reading