I'm a city girl, born and raised in Hoboken. When I was eleven, mom and dad wanted to enjoy a home of their own, so we moved to a quiet rural city only a few miles away. Yes, I shoveled snow, rode my bike and even played man hunt in the dark on those seemingly endless summer nights. But I had never planted a thing in my life. Dirt was Mortal Enemy Numero Uno. I was the prissy little girl who ran to mommy when my ice cream cone started to melt, dripping on my hand. "Mommy, I'm  done!" quickly passing it to her. You can imagine where "hands digging into dark earth" ranked on  my icky scale! Any thought of a mud pie never even crossed my mind...

Something changed when I moved to Bergen county. For one, I developed seasonal allergies. And I gradually no longer shied away from getting my hands dirty. On my own, I began to pot some pretty house plants for my apartment windowsill. I would never have imagined one day I would know the difference between a euonymous and boxwood bush, or sunlight preferences for primroses and peonies.

I've become quite the gardener over the years, to my own surprise, outdoors and in. Every spring, all the houseplants get a renewal with trimming, dividing, and repotting in fresh soil. The earthy smell of the potting mix... the cool, damp clumps easily broken up with my deft fingers... the lush green foliage and firm stems snapping as they're clipped... I absolutely love it!  Who would have thought this city girl can pot a mean pothos!