After months of heavy blankets, cold bones, and snoozing our way through snow days, spring has finally cracked open the door like a beautiful farm fresh egg, and we’re walking through it barefoot and blooming.  (That actually sounds kinda gross… Nobody wants to walk through egg…)

There’s something magical about this moment.  The air shifts.  The light lingers longer.  Birds  annoy you in the morning a little earlier.  And suddenly, we remember we’re alive.  Like really alive!

Hibernation isn’t just for bears.

We’ve all been burrowed in, emotionally, physically, spiritually, hibernating in our own way.  Maybe we got quiet.  Maybe we lost our light.  Maybe we rested more than we planned (or worked too hard when we should’ve rested, which I’m totally guilty of!)  Now what?  Now the soil’s warming up.  And so are we. 🌞

Spring says: Come as you are.

Like Nirvana was telling us in the 90’s, you don’t need to emerge with a six-pack, a perfect plan, or an “organized” anything!  You just need to show up, muddy boots, messy buns, sleepy eyes and all.  Growth doesn’t need a grand entrance.  It just needs sunlight and a little curiosity.

So here’s your gentle nudge:

Go outside, even if it’s just for five minutes.

Start something small, like a seed, a journal, or a morning ritual.

Let yourself thaw.  Un-crunch.  Stretch out.  Yawn big and loud.

This season isn’t about becoming someone new, it’s about remembering who you are when the world is starting to wake up again.

We’re coming out of hibernation, friends.  And it’s going to be glorious! 🤩

Apparently, I’m fluent in passive-aggressive domestic shouting!  The following are examples from the past week:

1. The Printer
“You had ONE job!”
All I wanted was a simple printout of our new reflection page!  Instead, I got a flashing red light, an error code about cartridges, and paper jammed in a way that defies physics.  I’m 87% sure it’s just gaslighting me at this point.


2. The Cabinet Door That Attacked My Head
“CASH ME OUTSIDE! HOW BOUT DAT!”
I leaned down, stood up too fast, and BAM, judo chop to the head from the corner of the cabinet.  I am now seeing stars and in negotiations with Ryu for emotional support.


3. My Coffee Maker
“Don’t act like you don’t burn me every time I try to clean you!”
I opened the top to my single serve coffee maker and it thrust a thousand suns onto my hand!  Apparently, the universe hates me and loves burning my hand.


4. Junk Drawer
“WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS?!”
Every random and abandoned  thing you can think of.  It’s a tragic, stabby love story, and I’m the only one suffering.


5. The Wind
“COULD YOU NOT?!”
Just trying to carry a stack of grow bags like a functioning adult.  Instead, I’m chasing bags across the yard like I’m reenacting a low-budget Twister remake.


6. My Coat Zipper
“You traitor.”
Right when I’m trying to get Ryu outside and trying to look like a whole adult human, my coat decides it wants to audition for Cirque du Soleil by flipping inside out and eating itself…


7. The Dish Washer
“Why are you beeping??”
Door shut, full of water (it’s a countertop washer).  Everything is perfect and yet…  BEEP!  BEEP!  BEEP!  I fear for my sanity at this point.


8. That One Shoe
“WHERE IS YOUR PARTNER?!”
Ryu has an uncanny ability to make shoes disappear, but only one of the pair.  This is an everyday frustration.


9. The Fridge Light
“Don’t you dare go out on me.”
That little flicker when you open the door?  That’s fridge-speak for “you’re about to enter the dark ages.”  Last time it went out, it took YEARS for me to remedy.


10. My Ozlo Charger
“I TRUSTED YOU.”
It was plugged in.  It pretended to charge.  It lied.  My headphones are dead.  My great night sleep is dead.  Our relationship is dead.

—

Moral of the Story:
Inanimate objects have it out for us.  Or maybe I just need more sleep (thanks, Ozlo) and less caffeine (thanks, homicidal coffee maker.)  Either way, stay safe out there, friends, and don’t trust the junk drawer or the coffee maker!

As the world becomes rapidly urban, many of us find ourselves yearning for a connection to nature and a sustainable way to enrich our lives.  That’s where Yard 2 Yield steps in.  Our mission is to empower individuals to transform their backyards into thriving gardens, where they can cultivate their own food and, in turn, cultivate growth and prosperity in their lives!

There’s something profoundly rewarding about planting a seed and nurturing it into a flourishing plant.  Gardening not only teaches patience and resilience, it also provides a deep sense of accomplishment.  At Yard 2 Yield, we offer resources and guidance to help you start your own garden, no matter your skill level.

Growing your own food is not just a hobby; it’s an investment in your future.  By reducing your reliance on store-bought produce, you can save money and enjoy fresher, healthier food.  With our expertise, Yard 2 Yield ensures that your garden yields the best return on investment, both nutritionally and financially.

When you cultivate your own garden, you contribute to a larger movement of sustainability and self-reliance.  By reducing your carbon footprint through local food production, you take part in positive environmental change.  Moreover, as you thrive, so does your community.  Sharing surplus produce fosters community spirit and resilience.

By embracing the principles of Yard 2 Yield, you are not only enhancing your personal life but also paving the way for a greener, more sustainable future.  Each garden adds to the mosaic of urban agriculture that supports biodiversity and ecosystem health.

At Yard 2 Yield, we believe that every plot of land holds the potential for growth and prosperity.  Whether you have a window box or a spacious yard, our team is here to guide you in transforming your space into a source of nourishment and joy.

Have you started your journey with us yet?  Let’s sow the seeds of growth and prosperity together!

Sometimes, the past doesn’t stay where we left it.  It taps softly at the edges of our dreams, whispers through an old song, or appears suddenly in a text from someone we haven’t thought about in years.  When the past knocks, it’s rarely convenient, and it’s almost always meaningful.

Lately, I’ve found myself face to face with echoes.  Not just people I once knew, but pieces of myself I thought had been folded away for good.  Old friends, family dynamics, even spiritual energies I hadn’t felt in years, all circling back as if on cue.  At first, I brushed it off.  A coincidence here.  A random memory there.  I don’t think spirit works by accident.  And the more I tuned in, the more I realized these weren’t intrusions, they were invitations!

Some ghosts don’t haunt, they guide.

Reconnecting with people from our past can be healing, messy, unexpected, or all three.  Sometimes the wounds have scabbed over, and not truly healed.  Other times, the time away allowed both souls to grow in ways that now make reconnection feel… divine.  It’s not always about rekindling relationships either.  Sometimes it’s about closure.  Other times, it’s a reminder of who we were, so we can better understand who we’ve become.

And then there are the old spirits.  Ancestors.  Guides.  Past life threads.  These don’t always knock the same way.  They show up in synchronicities, repeated symbols, feelings of déjà vu.  Lately, I’ve felt the presence of energies I haven’t called on in a long time.  They arrive not to overwhelm, only to remind: You are held.  You are watched over.  You are on the right path.

Reconnection requires discernment.  Not every knock needs answering.  Some doors are better left closed. And others? They lead us back to ourselves.

So when the past knocks, I listen now.  I ask: Why now?  What’s the lesson here?  What have I not yet fully seen?

And if I feel that gentle pull in my chest, that heart-hum of knowing… I open the door.

Because sometimes, what we need most isn’t something new… it’s something we’ve forgotten.

I wasn’t always a gardener.
Truth is, by the time I found my way to the soil, one of my kids had already left the nest, and another was well on their way.  It wasn’t some long-held family tradition or early childhood memory that drew me in (except memories of getting my hands dirty in the garden, planting marigolds with my dad) it was a quiet pull, a whisper that said, “You could grow this.”

And so I did.

Not just plants, but peace.  Purpose.  And a new way of parenting.

When I started gardening, my daughter Evalynn was around 15.  Old enough to roll her eyes but still young enough to be curious.  She’d follow me barefoot through the yard, popping cherry tomatoes into her mouth like candy, staining her fingers with berry juice.  She learned quickly where food really comes from, not a box, not a drive-thru, but from dirt, sun, and time.

What I didn’t expect was how much I would grow, too.
Gardening gave me a second chance, not just to connect with nature, but to reconnect with my kids in a different way.  I couldn’t go back and put seedlings in their toddler hands, but I could share what I was learning now.  I could invite them into this grounded, healing rhythm and let them see their mom bloom a little later in life.

And they noticed.

Tristan (22) asks for fresh herbs and eggs when he comes home to visit.  And Evalynn?  She’s a sun-warmed cherry tomato thief and proud of it! 🍅

So if you’re feeling like you missed the boat on homesteading or garden-grown dinners, let me be the first to say:
It’s never too late to plant something new!

You don’t have to start with a full-blown homestead.  Start with a pot of basil on the windowsill.  Let your kids see you try, fail, laugh, and learn.  Let them witness your joy when a seed you almost gave up on finally sprouts.

Whether your babies are in highchairs or their own apartments, there’s still time to grow something beautiful, together!

Sometimes life feels like an endless obstacle course built by someone with a twisted sense of humor.  One minute you’re finally standing tall, and the next, someone’s yelling, “Now jump through this one!”

It’s too high.  It’s on fire.  It’s moving.  And you’re tired.

And yet, you jump.  Or climb.  Or crawl under it while muttering things your grandmother would disapprove of.

Because that’s what life demands sometimes.

The Hoops Are Never Just One Thing

Sometimes it’s paperwork.  Or bills.  Or the fifth phone call to fix something that never should’ve broken in the first place.  Sometimes it’s emotional, unrealistic expectations, guilt trips, or trying to prove your worth to people who never really saw it.

They come disguised as responsibility, as tradition, as just the way things are.  And they can suck the joy right out of your day if you let them.

Here’s the thing though: hoops are made to be passed through.  Not lived inside.

You’re Not Lazy, You’re Exhausted!

Some days, the only hoop you want to jump through is the one that lands you on the couch with a blanket and a snack.  That doesn’t mean you’ve failed.  That means you’re human.

Rest isn’t weakness, it’s fuel.  Even the strongest plants have seasons of stillness.  Nobody expects the apple tree to bear fruit in January.  Why do you expect yourself to bloom year-round while leaping over metaphorical circus props?

Jump With Purpose, Or Don’t Jump at All

You don’t owe every hoop your energy.  Not every expectation is yours to meet.  Some hoops are handed down from other people’s fear, control, or misplaced values.

Ask yourself: Who’s holding this hoop?  Why am I jumping through it?  What do I gain on the other side?

If the answers don’t sit right in your gut, you don’t have to leap.  You can walk around it.  Knock it over.  Burn it in the fire pit while roasting marshmallows and reclaiming your peace.

You’ve Already Cleared So Many

Look behind you.  See all those bent and broken hoops?  You’ve already made it through things other people couldn’t even imagine.  That’s not luck.  That’s resilience.  That’s tenacity.  That’s you.

So if today feels hard, if the hoop looks impossible, if the jump feels too high, know this: you’ve jumped before, and you’ll do it again.  Or you’ll find another way through.  You always do. 😉

When we talk about homesteading today, it’s easy to get swept away by the latest gadgets and gizmos promising quicker harvests and easier chores.  There’s also something beautifully grounding, and brilliantly clever, in the forgotten wisdom of our ancestors.  These long-lost hacks from the 1700-1800s aren’t just charming throwbacks; they’re timeless treasures that our modern-day homesteads can deeply benefit from!

The Root Cellar Revival

Long before refrigeration, our ancestors mastered food storage with root cellars.  Underground rooms or even simple holes in the ground provided perfect conditions, dark, cool, and humid, for vegetables like carrots, potatoes, onions, and apples to last through harsh winters.  Don’t have space for a traditional root cellar?  Repurpose an old cooler or insulated box buried underground or in a shady area covered with hay to recreate this timeless technique.

Composting Magic

Did you know early homesteaders were composting before it was cool?  Kitchen scraps, animal manure, and yard waste all found their way into carefully tended piles.  They understood that nutrient-rich soil was the secret to thriving gardens.  Take their lead: keep a simple, layered compost pile going year-round and watch your garden flourish, no fancy bins required!

Herbal Remedies at Hand

In the days before pharmacies lined street corners, every homesteader knew how to harness the power of herbs.  Calendula salves soothed cuts, yarrow stopped bleeding, and chamomile calmed nerves and upset stomachs.  Bringing back these remedies is simple: dedicate a small garden patch or windowsill planter box to medicinal herbs, and you’ll have a natural first-aid kit at your fingertips.

Cast-Iron Cookware for Generations

Our ancestors swore by cast iron for a reason, it lasts forever, retains heat beautifully, and even adds iron to your meals.  Skip the nonstick pans and embrace seasoned cast iron skillets and dutch ovens.  Properly cared for, these heirloom pieces will serve your family for generations.

Animal Husbandry Wisdom

Caring for animals wasn’t a hobby; it was survival.  Early homesteaders knew the value of using every resource available.  Chickens weren’t just egg layers; they were pest control and compost creators.  Goats provided milk, cleared brush, and fertilized fields.  Revisit their mindset by adopting animals that serve multiple purposes, ensuring your homestead thrives sustainably.

Weather Watching Wonders

Without apps or forecasts, our ancestors learned to predict weather through nature itself.  Red skies at night promised fair weather, closed pinecones meant moisture was on its way, and low-flying birds indicated impending rain.  Tune into nature’s subtle signs, and you’ll rarely be caught off guard by sudden weather changes again.

A Legacy Worth Keeping

Homesteading isn’t just about productivity, it’s about connection, stewardship, and keeping alive the wisdom passed down through generations.  By reviving these forgotten hacks, we embrace a simpler, smarter way of living that deeply nourishes both land and soul.  So let’s dust off the old ways and let them guide us forward, stronger and wiser than ever!

Every gardener knows, plants have personalities.  They don’t speak in words, but oh, they communicate.  Some beg for attention.  Some thrive in silence.  Some are absolute chaos with leaves.

And if they could talk?  Oh honey, they’d have plenty to say!

Let’s take a stroll through the garden and hear what the real stars of the soil might whisper, mutter, or shout if given the chance…


—

Tomato – The Drama Queen

“Ugh, are my leaves curling?  Is that blossom-end rot?!  Quick, someone Google it!”

Tomatoes need the sun, the spotlight, the perfect amount of water, and constant emotional support.  They throw fits at the slightest imbalance.  And oh, when they’re happy?  They give and give.  Juicy, radiant, and worth every tantrum.


—

Lavender – The Chill Mystic

“I’ve already done my blooming.  I’m just here to vibe.”

Lavender exudes peace.  She doesn’t need the fuss.  She stands firm in her boundaries, smells like a deep exhale, and teaches you the sacred art of stillness.  Irritate her, and she’ll just stop blooming, and she’ll never lose her grace.


—

Zucchini – The Overachiever

“I MADE SIX MORE FRUITS WHILE YOU BLINKED!”

Zucchini doesn’t ask for permission.  It just takes over.  Every leaf is the size of a dinner plate, every blossom has a plan, and the harvest?  Aggressive.  You’ll be gifting zucchinis to strangers in the Aldi parking lot by July!


—

Dill – The Nosy Neighbor

“Hey! Whatcha planting? I go great with pickles.  Also, did you mulch that right?”

Dill is feathery, friendly, and absolutely everywhere.  It pops up in garden beds it wasn’t invited to and somehow makes itself welcome anyway.  A chatty little herb with good intentions and zero boundaries.


—

Basil – The Charmer

“I’m everyone’s favorite.  Admit it.”

Basil struts through the garden like it owns the place.  Smells divine, gets along with everyone (especially tomato), and bolts the moment you stop paying attention.  Still, you forgive it every time.  That’s the power of charm.


—

Carrot – The Quiet Introvert

“I’m doing deep work.  Please don’t disturb me.”

Carrots keep to themselves.  They don’t need praise or fuss.  They know their magic’s underground, growing steady and sweet while everyone else shows off.  Carrots teach us to trust the process, even when we can’t see what’s happening yet.


—

Sweet Annie – The Gentle Healer

“I don’t need attention.  I am the medicine.”

Sweet Annie is soft, steady, and strong in ways you don’t always notice at first.  Her scent clears the air, her energy calms the spirit.  She’s not here for show, she’s here for soul work.  The quiet companion who always knows when you need to rest and breathe.


—

Every Garden is a Living Chorus

The plants are speaking, if we’re willing to listen.  They’ve got wisdom, sass, and soul in every root and leaf.  So the next time you’re out in the garden, pause for a moment.  Let them tell you who they are.

Because sometimes, the best advice comes with petals and dirt under your nails.

There are things in life that don’t go the way we planned.  Dreams that fell flat.  Friendships that soured.  Mistakes that haunt us in the quiet hours.  It piles up, doesn’t it?  The heartbreaks, the burned bridges, the should’ve, could’ve, would’ve cycle.

And just like the garden, life starts to stink if we don’t do something with all that waste.

Here’s the secret gardeners know, compost happens.  And it’s not a mess to be ashamed of.  It’s a resource!

Rot is Not the End.  It’s the Beginning.

Take a good look at your compost pile.  It’s the stuff nobody wanted, banana peels, wilted greens, eggshells, the weeds you yanked out in frustration.  Useless, right?  Ugly, smelly, past its prime?

Give it time.  Give it air.  Give it a little heat and a good turning now and then.  That pile starts to change.  The rot breaks down.  The stink fades.  And what’s left?  Rich, dark, living earth.  The kind of stuff that makes everything grow better.

You, my friend, are no different.

Let It Break Down

You don’t have to carry every old hurt with you.  You don’t have to hide the parts of yourself that feel broken, bitter, or bruised.  You just need a place to put it.  Somewhere it can transform.

That place might be journaling.  Or a walk in the woods.  Or ugly crying in your car to a sad song from 2018 (my fav is The Night We Met, by Lord Hurron.)  It might be a therapist’s office or a garden bed.  Whatever it is, go there.  Let the pain breathe.  Let it turn over in the light.

It’s not weakness.  It’s alchemy.

The Best Soil is the Most Worked-Over

Isn’t it funny how the places with the most struggle often produce the most beauty?  Compost-fed soil grows stronger roots, bigger blooms, and sweeter fruit.

The same is true of you!  If you’ve been through it, and I mean really been through it, you’ve got something powerful beneath your surface now.  You’re not fragile.  You’re fortified.

The stuff you thought would ruin you?  It’s feeding the next version of you.

Don’t Rush the Process

Compost doesn’t happen overnight.  There’s a slow magic to it.  Things have to heat up, cool down, settle in, and get turned around a few times before they’re ready.

So be patient with your healing.  Don’t dig up the pile every day looking for results.  Just keep showing up.  Keep tending.  Keep trusting that something good is happening, even if you can’t see it yet.

Because eventually, you’ll plant something new in that soil.  And it will thrive, not in spite of what you went through, but because of it instead.

There comes a point when the roots start circling.

You’ve seen it before, in a pot that’s too small, where the plant can’t grow another inch.  The leaves start to yellow, the flowers don’t bloom, and you wonder what went wrong, until you pull it from the pot and see the truth: it’s not broken, it’s crowded!

That’s how life feels sometimes.

You’ve done the best you could in the space you were given.  You’ve stretched, twisted, adjusted, made do.  And now, you’re not thriving, you’re just surviving.  Rootbound.

Tightly Wound and Tired

When you’re rootbound, it doesn’t always look like suffering at first.  You might be showing up.  Smiling.  Checking all the boxes.

And inside?  You’re circling.  Stuck in the same old thoughts, same old routines, same conversations that leave you empty.  Maybe you feel irritable or restless or too much all of a sudden.  Maybe you’ve been trying to shrink to fit in a place you’ve long outgrown.

This isn’t failure.  This is a signal.

Growth Was Never the Problem

A rootbound plant isn’t weak, it’s strong.  It’s been trying to grow, pushing in every direction it can, holding on with everything it’s got.  That’s what you’ve been doing, too.

You’ve expanded in spirit, in wisdom, in resilience.  You’ve become more of who you are.  And now, the life you once fit into, maybe the job, the role, the story, the relationship, the expectations, it’s just too damn small.

Time to Repot, Love

The only way forward is out.

You’ve got to loosen those roots, shake off what’s clinging too tight, and settle into a new space that allows you to breathe.  This might look like a big change, or it might be as subtle as finally saying no when you mean it, or yes to something you’ve been afraid of.

It might be scary.  Transplanting always is.  And I will say,  it’s the only way to keep growing.

Not Everything Makes the Move

When you replant, not every root comes with you.  Some of them need to be trimmed, old beliefs, habits, patterns that no longer serve.  That’s okay.  That’s healthy.  It doesn’t mean those parts weren’t important.  It just means you don’t need them anymore!

Let it go.  Make space.  The soil is waiting.

You Deserve a Bigger Pot

You weren’t meant to shrink.  You weren’t meant to circle endlessly inside a story that’s grown too tight.  You were meant to expand!  To bloom!  To take up space!

So if you’ve been feeling cramped, out of sorts, restless, don’t panic.  You’re not falling apart.  You’re just rootbound.

And it’s time to grow.