THE HEIRLOOM HARVEST

Now, listen close, 'cause this ain't just a tale about dirt and sun. In 1998, when the Jessamine County Country Club was still plannin' its first green, I buried a seed packet in the very corner of my backyard—a cherry tomato, the size of a ruby, pulled from a vine that had survived the Great Freeze. Thirty years later, that vine is singin' in my trellis, and every fruit is a verse in the garden's song.

This is the ledger of that harvest. Every coordinate, every nutrient, every dawn we woke to tend it.