The yellow police tape around my community garden has been removed.
That’s given me the green light to return to my trusty patch of dirt where I can grumble to my bug-eaten kale about the weeds, curse my insect-chewed greens to the apple tree nearby, and wince at tomato plants that look like the inspiration for a B-Movie horror flick villain.
It wasn’t long after my lament at being cut off from the garden because of a fire investigation that we all got the go-ahead to return. But what made me flinch more than coming back to gnarly plants was the gaping hole cut into the church’s roof by flames and firefighters’ axes. —Continue reading—