My dad would take a week of vacation from work every summer to work in the garden. I didn’t really understand that then; to a kid, vacation meant that you went somewhere and did something fun so that your kids would have something exciting to write about when that inevitable “What I Did on Summer Vacation” writing assignment arrived in the fall. I understand the premise of Dad’s choice much better now.

In my adult years, I have revived a fondness for gardening, one that was often lost in the heat of Star, Mississippi, summers. My garden today consists of a few raised beds used for growing tomatoes mostly. I have grown cantaloupes, watermelons, and squash, too, but my prolific blackberry vines have taken over two of the beds once used for growing other things. Dad’s garden—our fami...

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