Reply #7: Good for him.

[JDPriestly]

These days, I bring in the rare fig from our fig tree and cut it in half, one-half for me, the other for my husband.

I cut the tomatoes up for salad.

My father worked in a truck garden in college. When I was in junior high in the midwest, the school set off a part of its land and allowed students to "lease" it for gardening over the summer.

My dad and I planted beans. I learned so much for it. Although I had grown up around farmers, planting my own garden was just a wonderful, grown-up seeming thing to do. I was hooked, but never had the time and place to garden at all until recent years -- here in this very unfavorable climate and with this clay soil. So my first job is building soil. And I am doing it.

I do a lot of gardening in pots because we have a large cement area in the back yard. (Not our idea, probably placed there to prevent erosion in the rare rains that can destroy hillsides like ours.

This year was my best harvest so far. You just have to persist and keep thinking soil, soil, soil.

I bet if you dig deep enough you will find clay so heavy you think it is rock.

One year the plumbers dug in our front yard. I had a pile of what I thought was rocks to put in the bottoms of pots. When I let it soak in water, to my dismay, I learned that it was just mushy clay.

Should be a great place for making pottery. If only I knew how and had a kiln. . . . .