Granny Plants
Granny Plants
Practical posts on gardening, preserving, and homestead life — written by someone who's actually out there doing it.
The canning cupboard tour: a whole growing season standing at attention, one jar of summer at a time.
Two sheet pans, one oven: the lake-weekend tomatoes roast their way toward salsa jars.
The putting-up month arrives: the canner running, squash curing, golden light, and every chore a little gift to February-us.
A record haul, one determined sunny who negotiated his own release, and the garden that worked overtime out of spite.
A cup of coffee, sleepy dogs, and a chores list that can wait. Just a quiet hour and a grateful heart.
The squash garden named after my sister (for being extra) gets tucked in for winter — five wagonloads later. Free squash chili recipe included.
The birds planted the sunflowers. I dried the heads on the deck table. The farmers came back to collect their share.
A dozen nearly identical photos of one increasingly unamused dog, one tomato harvest, and a lot of unearned patience.
Years of hand-kneading cabbage, and it turns out salt plus time does the work on its own. A genuine accidental discovery.
A dish drying mat, folded and sewn into a giftable basket that fits 3 quart jars perfectly. Free pattern included.
What is a rebel canner, honestly, and why this post won't teach you to be one — a real conversation about risk and knowing what you're deciding.
Twenty pounds of frozen tomatoes, saved bag by bag all season, finally turned into 7 quarts of spaghetti sauce.
Saving vegetable scraps and bones in the freezer for a 72-hour broth simmer — essentially free food, and early fall canning prep.
Meet the self-appointed supervisor of the tomato haul, plus how we freeze small hauls until there's enough for a real batch.
Not every basket needs to fill a wagon. Sometimes it's just a little bit of everything, exactly enough for dinner.
A few extra bean plants snuck in, no real excuse needed — and even without a harvest, they give back to the soil.
A free sewing pattern, plus the old interfolding trick that makes them cling like a real roll.
Freezing, dehydrating, pickling, relish, fermenting, and the famous Zapple pie filling trick.
One wagon of cucumbers, 7 jars of pickles, and a lesson in gardener's math.
Garlic, onions, tomatoes, peppers, squash, and the first horseradish root of the season — all from twenty feet outside.
The dogs get their own cherry tomato plant — as long as they stay close by. Everyone's got a job around here.
Before Granny Plants, my first idea for a blog name was Only Pans. My daughter was mortified. I thought it was hilarious.
Grape leaves keep pickles crisp thanks to their tannins — turns out my own oak tree works just as well.
Bread and butter, dill, hot, and horseradish — four kinds of pickles, one very full counter.
A whole counter of zucchini bread, made to give away to family, friends, and whoever walks within shouting distance.
Had to pick the cabbage early this year — a deer decided our 3.5-foot bed wasn't tall enough to keep her out.
A patch of gold showed up in the garden this year, courtesy of a bird and a dropped seed. Just an appreciation post.
Garden season now, quilting, baking, and basket making later this year — here's how my homestead year actually works.
A 4x8 raised bed, one harvest, and two dogs who've started helping themselves straight off the vine.
It's not too late to get a second round of beans in. Here's exactly what to check on right now.