by Ruth, a.k.a. Momma Frizzle

The question is a calculated power move by 12-year-old Kit-Kat, and she appeals to the highest authority. “DADDY, who does the garden belong to?”

 

Kit-Kat already believes the garden is hers. She plants it, tends it, waters it, harvests it, cooks from it, barters with it, and rules it with an iron fist of professional pride. The extent to which our family eats farm-to-table is truly her doing.

 

But we can’t let her become a tyrant, so a thoughtful answer from Daddy Rooster reins her in, slightly. “It is our family’s garden managed by you,” he declares.

 

Here’s a step-by-step guide to how Kit-Kat puts in the garden, using farm hands (the other kids), craft services (me), and financial underwriters (Daddy Rooster).

About the Author
I'm one frizzled momma finding adventure and delight everyday...and writing about it! My chicken coop is full of six chicks, lots of friends, tons of books, and plenty of work. Stick around, I've got loads of stories to share.