Spring has sprung. Love, sweet bird-songs (and pollen) fill the air. Yep, it’s that time of year again. The time when cold winter melts into warmer spring. Days start getting longer.

You have a blank canvas of a backyard and want to host all the friends on the weekend.

You love you some hot sauce? You’re in good company. If you snuck into my fridge or pantry, I’m sure you’d see anywhere from 2 to 15 craft hot sauce containers beckoning your masochistic palate.

Most stuffed peppers I’ve seen involve a filling of meat and rice. I like rice as much as the next person, but what if you’re eating paleo, grain-free or summoning your willpower to finish your Whole30 strong?

Welcome to the saga where my (and your?) identity shifts from black thumb to green thumb. But not without bug bumps & fungal bruises along the way. Join us as we ever so gradually forsake the grocery store produce section for our backyard blissful bounty. …

Blueberry season is here, folks! That means summer is right around the corner. High fives to all the chillens who just seized every green, pink and red blueberry from the bush and forsook the bluest of blues above and below their 6 inch by 6 …

This might be the prettiest crust I’ve ever made. It kind of looks like dainty little flower petals, and I’m not going to lie to you, I’m dang proud of it.

It’s a relaxing work-night (you convince yourself), and you’re practicing your adulting by home-cheffing a dish that includes a little green green. You’re thinking local kale or sage from the garden out back, right? Thought so. You hipster. But it seems you have reached an …

Round 2: Let’s Get Down to the Nitty Gritty (In 1950s male announcer voice, spoken far too quickly for modern American intelligibility) Previously on The Journey of the Thumb… Austin commits involuntary plantslaughter. Wildlife witnesses prosecute. SeedEaters (aka birds & squirrels & bugs, oh sigh) …

The Journey of the Thumb Ever been accused of having a “black thumb“? Likely it was unintelligibly uttered under granny’s breath to your progenitress (your mom) at the last backyard family luncheon you hosted. Allow me to elaborate. It’s when you wholeheartedly attempt grow photosynthetic …