my dad’s giant veggies: old roots, new shoots

Every summer, my backyard turns into a living memory. My dad, with his sun-faded hat and stubborn hands, still grows giant tomatoes and pumpkins, just like his father did back in the day. I remember as a kid, neighbors would stop by, wide-eyed at the monstrous zucchinis sprawled across our lawn. It felt like magic—something only dads could do. But now, my own kids roll their eyes at the idea of digging in the dirt. They’d rather order organic kale online than get their hands muddy. Sometimes I wonder: are we losing something precious, or just moving with the times? My dad swears by compost and heirloom seeds, while my neighbor brags about his hydroponic setup and LED lights. The old ways versus the new—who’s right? Here in the Midwest, the weather is never predictable. Last year’s late frost wiped out half of Dad’s squash, but he just shrugged and replanted. That resilience, that connection to the land, feels like a family legacy worth fighting for. Yet, the HOA keeps sending letters about our ‘unsightly’ vegetable beds, claiming they disrupt the neighborhood’s look. Shouldn’t we have the freedom to grow what we love, even if it’s not picture-perfect? Sometimes, I walk outside at dusk and see Dad tending his plants, the sky streaked with pink and gold. It reminds me that gardening isn’t just about food—it’s about healing, tradition, and a little bit of rebellion. Maybe that’s what we need more of these days: dirt under our nails, stories to pass down, and a garden that doesn’t always fit in. #familygardening #traditionvsinnovation #midwestgardens #Gardening