I love my vegetable garden, and I love to share its bounty. 

"Your blue potatoes taste good," a child at a school function said and hugged me. 

 "I am glad you like them," I said. "They are from my garden." I had brought the potatoes to a school lunch, microwaved them in the kitchen, peeled and cut them into chunks and offered them with a bit of butter and salt. 

My garden is my friend in times of stress, my physical therapist when I ache, my outlet for sharing joy. Recently, when the first nigh...
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