• 100-Mile Food

    Soil Beneath My Nails

    Even though here in Ontario spring has taken forever to shed it’s winter-y skin, it’s that time of year again. The trees are that vibrant, eye-aching chartreuse green that can only been noticed in May. The soil smells wet and dank after soaking up the snow and torrential April showers. Every breath is full of promise and anticipation. Anyone who knows me well enough will know at this time of the year, it’s likely easier to find me at the greenhouse than anywhere else. My manicure consists of garden soil French tips, and I’m probably wearing my harem pants because they make me feel more like Mother Earth. This time…