By Rachel Hartman
#30days30authors I grew up in the Middle Ages. Well, not the Middle Ages exactly, but in Kentucky, which is close, and with a father who believed that if you didn’t have garden soil under your nails, you just weren’t working hard enough. We lived in the middle of town, but he was determined his girls would have as much good, wholesome farm experience as he could contrive to give us. We grew berries and vegetables, canned tomatoes and made jam, chopped wood and spread mulch; and when I wasn’t imagining I was really a princess in exile amongst the surly serfs, I gained an appreciation for the timeliness of growing things.
Read the full article at Strange Horizons.