Every morning, before the day asks anything of me, I like to step outside with a cup of coffee and walk through my garden.
Some mornings there are exciting surprises—a new blossom, a tomato beginning to blush, or a pepper that seemed to appear overnight. Other mornings, everything looks exactly as it did the day before.
This week, my attention has been on my berry bushes. Instead of looking for fruit, I’ve been focusing on something much less exciting but far more important: the soil beneath them. I added compost, mulch, and nutrients to give them the best chance to thrive in the seasons ahead.
It reminded me that the healthiest gardens aren’t built by chasing quick harvests. They’re built by investing in strong roots.
Life works much the same way.
We often want immediate results. We want the promotion, the stronger body, the thriving friendships, the peaceful home, or the dream we’ve been working toward. But so much of life’s meaningful growth happens where no one can see it.
Roots are growing long before flowers bloom.
This season has reminded me that patience isn’t passive. It’s choosing to water what matters, even when the evidence of progress is still hidden beneath the surface.
One day those berry bushes will reward the care they’re receiving today. Until then, I’ll keep tending the soil.
Maybe that’s a lesson we can all carry with us.
Not every season is meant for harvesting.
Some seasons are meant for growing roots.
What are you nurturing today that may not bear fruit until tomorrow?
Earlier in the week, I woke up later than planned and missed a group run. For a moment, I was disappointed. I had been looking forward to spending the morning with fellow runners, but once I realized I had missed the opportunity, I decided to shift my focus instead of dwelling on what I couldn’t change.
I picked up my gardening supplies rather than my running shoes and headed outside.
What started as an unexpected change of plans turned into one of my most productive mornings in the garden. I spent several hours pulling weeds, pruning my vegetable plants, and harvesting fresh produce. By the time I finished, I had cleared weeds from two and a half raised beds and prepared half of another bed for cabbage, which I plan to sow after today’s run with my running buddies.
Unfortunately, I didn’t think to take any “before” pictures. I was so eager to get started that I forgot to document where everything began. Instead, I have the “after” photos—a clean garden, healthy plants, and a reminder that progress is still worth celebrating, even if you don’t capture every step of the journey.
Gardening has a way of teaching the same lessons over and over again. We can’t control every circumstance, but we can choose how we respond. Yesterday reminded me that a missed opportunity doesn’t have to become a wasted day. Sometimes life redirects us exactly where we need to be.
The weeds are gone, the vegetables have a little more room to thrive, and another bed is ready for the next season’s crop. I’d call that a successful morning.
🌿 Harvest of the Day
Not every productive day begins with the plan we had in mind. Sometimes the most meaningful progress happens when we’re willing to embrace change, adjust our expectations, and bloom wherever the day takes us.
A Plant-Based Sweet Potato Leaf Stew Inspired by Sierra Leone
One of my favorite things about gardening is watching memories grow alongside the vegetables.
This week, I harvested tomatoes and sweet potato leaves from my garden, and as I carried them into the kitchen, I couldn’t help but think of my grandmother.
Sweet potato leaf stew was one of those meals that brought our family together. Growing up, it was often prepared with meat or fish, just as it is in many Sierra Leonean households. The aroma alone could fill the house and let everyone know dinner was almost ready.
Today, I still make that same stew—but with a few twists of my own.
Over the years, my diet has become mostly plant-based, so instead of meat, I use extra-firm tofu. It adds a satisfying texture while allowing me to honor the flavors I grew up with in a way that fits my lifestyle today.
Every time I make this dish, it feels like I’m bringing a little piece of my grandmother’s kitchen into my own.
Garden-to-Table Sweet Potato Leaf Stew
Ingredients
For the stew
About 6 cups chopped sweet potato leaves
1 block extra-firm tofu, thawed, pressed, seasoned, and fried
5 medium garden tomatoes
2 yellow onions
2 medium bell peppers
Oil for frying
Seasonings
Hot pepper flakes (to taste)
1 tablespoon grated fresh ginger
3–4 cloves garlic, minced or grated
Seasoned salt (to taste)
1 teaspoon turmeric
2 tablespoons nutritional yeast
To Serve
Cooked jasmine rice
Directions
Preheat your oven to 350°F.
Score the tomatoes with a shallow “X” on the bottom of each one and bake for about 10 minutes, until the skins begin to loosen. Remove them from the oven, peel away the skins, and blend or mash the tomatoes into a smooth sauce.
While the tomatoes are roasting, season the tofu to your liking and fry until golden on all sides. Set aside.
Blend the onions and bell peppers together in a food processor until smooth.
Pour the vegetable mixture into the hot oil and cook for about 10 minutes, stirring occasionally.
Add the hot pepper flakes, grated ginger, garlic, seasoned salt, turmeric, and nutritional yeast. Continue cooking for another 5 minutes, allowing the spices to bloom and become fragrant.
Stir in the fresh tomato sauce.
Add the chopped sweet potato leaves, reduce the heat, and cook for about 10 minutes, stirring occasionally.
Taste the stew and adjust the seasonings as needed.
Gently fold in the fried tofu and simmer for another 10–15 minutes, allowing all of the flavors to come together.
Serve over warm jasmine rice.
A Meal That Gets Better With Time
Like many stews, this one tasted even better the next day.
The flavors had more time to develop, making every bite richer than the last.
It’s one of those meals that’s perfect for meal prep because tomorrow’s lunch might be even better than tonight’s dinner.
More Than a Recipe
As I stood in my kitchen cooking this meal, I realized that gardening has become about so much more than growing food.
It’s about preserving traditions.
It’s about remembering the people who taught us to cook long before recipes were written down.
It’s about taking something familiar and making it your own without losing the heart of where it came from.
My grandmother may not have made sweet potato leaf stew with tofu, but I like to think she’d appreciate that the spirit of her cooking still lives on.
Every harvest reminds me that traditions don’t have to stay frozen in time.
They can continue to grow—just like the gardens we tend.
This week in the garden has been a mix of encouragement and frustration. Some of my plants are thriving while others are clearly struggling, and honestly, I think the strange weather has a lot to do with it.
My spinach and okra have not been doing well at all. The spinach started bolting and looking stressed almost overnight, and the okra just seems unhappy no matter what I try. Between the random temperature swings, heavy rain, cooler nights, and sudden heat, I think the plants are having a hard time adjusting. Gardening really teaches patience because sometimes you can do everything “right” and nature still has other plans.
Thankfully, not everything is struggling. The potatoes are making steady progress and the corn is finally starting to look strong and established. My tomatoes are filling out nicely, the peppers are slowly taking off, and the peanuts are doing much better than I expected. Seeing those little wins helps balance out the disappointment of losing or struggling with other crops.
One thing I’m learning this season is that every garden tells a story. Some plants thrive in certain conditions while others refuse to cooperate. Instead of looking at setbacks as failures, I’m trying to see them as lessons for the next season. I may end up restarting the okra in a different area with more heat, and I’ll probably wait until cooler temperatures return before trying another round of spinach.
Even with the challenges, I still enjoy walking through the garden every morning. There’s something peaceful about watching things grow slowly over time. Progress may not always look perfect, but progress is still progress.
There’s something rewarding about seeing your garden slowly come together—one project at a time.
This past week, I focused on making a few key updates around my garden space. None of them were huge on their own, but together, they’re making a big difference in how everything looks, feels, and functions.
Finishing the Walkway
One of the biggest improvements I made was finally completing the walkway.
This has been a work in progress, but now that it’s done, it completely changes how I move through the space. It’s cleaner, more structured, and honestly just feels more intentional.
It’s a small detail, but it makes everyday tasks in the garden so much easier.
Adding a Decorative Fence (and Solving a Problem)
I also added a decorative fence around:
My flower area The section where I planted peanuts
This wasn’t just for looks—it solved a real issue.
Stray cats had started using that space as a litter box, which is something I definitely needed to get under control. Since adding the fence, I’ve already noticed a difference.
Now the space feels protected and more visually put together.
Upgrading My Rain Barrel Setup
Another small but important update was mounting my rain barrel.
Before, it was sitting too low, which made it harder to access the water once it filled up. Elevating it has made collecting and using rainwater much more practical.
It’s one of those changes that improves efficiency without requiring a lot of effort.
Harvesting Collard Greens
I was also able to harvest some collard greens, which always feels like a win.
Right now, I’m letting a few plants go to seed. Once the seeds are ready and collected, I’ll clear that bed to make room for cucumbers and green beans.
It’s all part of the cycle—harvest, reset, and plant again.
Looking Ahead
This season is teaching me that gardening isn’t about rushing.
It’s about:
Making steady improvements Learning from what works (and what doesn’t) Creating a space that grows with you
Every small step adds up.
Final Thoughts
This week wasn’t about doing everything—it was about doing what I could and doing it well.
This past week, I spent time pouring back into my garden—and for the first time, it’s starting to feel like something intentional, not just something I planted and hoped would grow.
Little by little, Haven Harvest is coming together.
🌱 Creating a Walkway
One of the biggest updates I made was building a walkway through the garden. I wanted something that felt natural, grounded, and functional—something that would allow me to move through the space without disturbing the beds.
I laid down a weed barrier first, then began placing rocks that I’ve been collecting from around the property. There’s something special about using what I already have. It makes the space feel more connected, more personal.
I added a few pavers to help stabilize certain areas, and I’m still working on filling it in, but even now, it’s already transforming how the garden feels.
It’s no longer just a space where things grow—it’s becoming a space where I can be.
🌿 Feeding the Soil
I also spent time adding more compost to my beds. I’ve learned that healthy plants really do start with healthy soil, so I’m trying to be more intentional about feeding it regularly.
On top of that, I made a simple fertilizing “tea” using things I had at home. I used:
boiled banana peels
used coffee grounds
crushed eggshells
I let everything steep and then used that nutrient-rich water to feed both my indoor and outdoor plants.
It’s a small step, but it feels good knowing I’m nourishing my plants in a natural, sustainable way.
🌼 Refreshing the Deck Garden
I didn’t forget about my deck either.
I added a new growing tower to maximize space, especially for herbs and smaller plants. It’s functional, but it also adds a really nice visual element.
To bring everything together, I laid down an outdoor rug, and that simple addition made the whole space feel more inviting—like an extension of my home.
🌞 Where I Am Right Now
My garden isn’t perfect, and it’s definitely still a work in progress—but it’s growing, just like I am.
Every rock placed, every bed turned, every small update—it all adds up.
I’m learning to take my time, to build slowly, and to appreciate each step along the way.
This isn’t just about growing food.
It’s about creating a space that feels like peace, purpose, and possibility.
And I’m really proud of how far it’s come.
📸 Garden Progress
I’ve included a few photos below to show how everything is coming together so far. I’m excited to keep building and sharing this journey.
“If you’re building your own garden, I’d love to hear what you’re working on this season 🌱”
There’s something about this time of year that feels full of possibility.
The air is still cool. The mornings are quiet. But underneath the surface, everything is preparing to grow — and so am I.
This week, I officially started seeds indoors.
And just like that, the planting season feels real.
🌿 The Indoor Seed Station Is Fully Operational
Wide shot of my full seed station with trays and grow lights
This year I expanded my indoor setup — multiple trays, labeled pods, grow lights positioned carefully, and even sweet potatoes sprouting below.
It may look simple, but this setup represents planning, learning, and commitment. I’m not rushing this season. I’m building it intentionally.
🌱 First Sprouts Under the Lights
Close-up of seedlings under grow lights
Watching those first leaves unfold under the glow of the grow lights never gets old. They may look delicate, but what’s happening below the surface is powerful.
Roots are forming. Systems are strengthening. Life is preparing.
This year’s indoor lineup includes:
Eggplant
Cayenne peppers
Bell peppers
Cauliflower
Broccoli
Basil
Marigolds
Sweet potatoes
Tomatoes
Peppers and eggplant need that early head start. The brassicas will transition outside earlier if the forecast cooperates. Basil and marigolds are part of my companion planting strategy — protection, pollination, and balance.
And the sweet potatoes? Those are personal. Watching them sprout reminds me that even something dormant can surprise you with life.
🪵 Preparing the Raised Beds
Photo of raised beds before cow manure
Outside, the beds are waiting.
I added more cow manure to enrich the soil and refreshed the raised beds in preparation for spring planting. The yard still looks winter-worn, but I can already see what it will become.
Healthy soil means stronger roots, better yields, and more resilient plants.
Soil first. Always.
🌽 The Future Corn & Peanut Patch
Outdoor patch photo where corn and peanuts will go
This is where the corn and peanuts will grow this year.
But timing matters.
I’m watching the forecast carefully, especially soil temperatures. Corn and peanuts need warmth and stability. I’m waiting until frost risk has passed and the soil temperature is consistently warm enough to support strong growth.
Gardening has taught me that patience protects your harvest.
📅 Zone 7a Planting Timeline (Quick Reminder)
Living in Zone 7a means our average last frost date typically falls around mid-April (April 10–20). That date guides almost everything I do this time of year.
Here’s how I’m planning around it:
6–8 weeks before last frost (February–early March):
Start peppers, eggplant, tomatoes indoors
Begin brassicas like broccoli and cauliflower
4–6 weeks before last frost:
Start basil and companion flowers like marigolds
2–3 weeks before last frost (weather permitting):
Harden off cool-weather crops
Transplant broccoli and cauliflower outdoors
After last frost (mid-to-late April):
Transplant peppers, tomatoes, eggplant
Direct sow corn
Plant peanuts once soil temperatures are above 65°F
Move sweet potato slips outdoors once nights are consistently warm
Gardening in Zone 7a is about watching the weather — not just the calendar.
📒 Systems Matter This Year
This year I have:
My gardening binder organized
Seed inventory tracked
Raised beds refreshed
A growing app helping me stay on schedule
Weather patterns monitored closely
It feels less chaotic and more strategic.
Preparation brings peace.
🌿 Planting With Purpose
Every year I garden, but this year feels different.
I’m not just planting vegetables — I’m building discipline. I’m practicing patience. I’m creating a rhythm that aligns with the seasons instead of rushing ahead of them.
Watching frost dates. Preparing soil before seeds go in. Starting early indoors but waiting wisely outdoors.
This garden is about more than harvest.
It’s about:
Teaching my children where food comes from
Building food security one bed at a time
Honoring agricultural roots that shaped generations before me
And trusting that steady preparation always produces results
The seedlings under my grow lights may look small now. The outdoor beds may still look quiet.
After the quiet of winter, I’ve started easing back into the garden—not by planting right away, but by preparing the space where everything will grow.
Over the past few weeks, I’ve been clearing out my garden beds, removing old growth, and giving the soil some much-needed care. I added compost to replenish nutrients and laid down hay to protect the beds, retain moisture, and allow the soil to rest while the weather finishes deciding what it wants to do.
This stage of gardening is slower and quieter, but it’s one of my favorites. It reminds me that growth doesn’t begin when seeds go into the ground—it begins with preparation.
Starting Seeds Indoors
With the outdoor beds resting, my next step is starting seeds indoors this coming weekend. Seed starting always feels hopeful to me. It’s a way to stay connected to the garden while honoring the last frost date and the natural rhythm of the season.
I keep things simple—seed trays, soil, light, and patience. These early starts will be ready to transition outside once spring settles in.
Garden Layout & Planting Intentions
I’ve also been sketching out my garden layout to help me think through spacing, companion planting, and how different plants support one another. This doesn’t have to be perfect—just intentional.
Here’s the plant list inspired by my current layout plan:
Spring Garden Plant List
Vegetables and Fruits
Tomatoes
Peppers (bell & other varieties)
Cucumbers (with trellis support)
Zucchini
Potatoes
Okra
Corn
Sweet Potatoes
Melons
Strawberries
Lettuce
Kale
Cabbage
Herbs
Basil
Dill
Parsley
Oregano
Sage
Garlic (already established / overwintered)
Flowers & Pollinators
Zinnias
Nasturtiums (woven throughout beds)
Calendula
Chamomile
Coneflower
Echinacea
These choices support pollinators, improve soil health, and encourage a balanced garden ecosystem—not just productivity.
Why I Plan Before I Plant
Mapping things out helps me stay flexible while still being intentional. It allows me to think about airflow, sunlight, harvest timing, and how my garden functions as a whole rather than a collection of individual plants.
For now, the beds are resting under compost and hay, and the seeds are getting ready to wake up indoors. Spring will come when it’s ready—and so will the garden.
Spring Garden Series
This post is Part 1 of my spring garden series. Over the next few weeks, I’ll be sharing:
Seed starting progress
Bed planting updates
Companion planting wins (and lessons learned)
Early harvests and seasonal adjustments
Join the Conversation
If you’re planning your spring garden, I’d love to hear about it. What are you growing this year—or what are you thinking about trying for the first time?
Feel free to share in the comments or follow along as the season unfolds.
There’s something deeply healing about watching food grow with your own hands. This month, my garden has been a quiet reminder that even when life feels heavy or uncertain, growth is still happening—sometimes slowly, sometimes quietly, but always with purpose.
My collard greens are coming along beautifully this season. Their leaves are thick, vibrant, and full of life, and every time I walk outside to check on them, I feel that familiar sense of grounding. There’s nothing like seeing your greens respond to the care you’ve given them—sunlight, watering, patience, and a little love. Collards have always reminded me of family, tradition, and resilience, so watching them thrive feels like a gift I didn’t know I needed.
I also harvested my sweet potatoes, and let me tell you—they did not disappoint. Pulling them from the soil felt like uncovering treasure. There’s something magical about it… one moment it’s just soft earth, and the next you’re holding nourishment that you planted months ago. My sweet potatoes grew in all different shapes and sizes, but each one felt like a little victory.
This week, I’m planning to put them to good use in my kitchen. I’ll be making a sweet-potato pie and some sweet-potato rolls for my family—recipes that bring warmth into the house and make everyone drift toward the kitchen to see what’s baking. Cooking with ingredients from my own garden always feels special. It’s more than just food; it’s love, work, and intention all coming together on a plate.
As I look at what’s growing now and what’s being harvested, I’m reminded that the garden is a reflection of the season I’m in: nurturing, patient, hopeful. Things take time to root. They take time to bloom. And when they finally do, the reward is deeper than the harvest—it’s the reminder that growth is still happening in me, too.
I can’t wait to share more next month, but for now, I’m grateful for greens, sweet potatoes, and the simple joy of feeding the people I love.
As I look at what’s growing now and what’s being harvested, I’m reminded that the garden is a reflection of the season I’m in: nurturing, patient, hopeful. Things take time to root. They take time to bloom. And when they finally do, the reward is deeper than the harvest—it’s the reminder that growth is still happening in me, too.
I can’t wait to share more next month, but for now, I’m grateful for greens, sweet potatoes, and the simple joy of feeding the people I love.
And if you’re curious about what I’m making with my harvest, stay tuned — next Monday’s post will feature the sweet-potato pie and rolls I’m baking for my family.
🍂 Fall in Bloom: The Progress and Peace I’ve Found in My Autumn Garden
🌱 Nurturing Growth in the Fall
This season, my garden is teaching me about patience, purpose, and quiet hope. After a long summer, stepping outside to see new life pushing through the soil feels like a gentle reward — a reminder that growth doesn’t stop just because the seasons change.
My fall garden is thriving with collard greens, steak tomatoes, carrots, russet potatoes, sweet potatoes, green beans, basil, cucumbers, beets, cabbage, and bell peppers. Each plant, in its own way, reflects where I am in life right now — steady, persistent, and learning to flourish through transition.
If you’re curious about what I’m using, you can find the same ones here:
Some beds are overflowing, while others are still finding their rhythm. My tomatoes have begun to climb again, pushing through the last warm days of fall, while the sweet potato vines spread like soft green blankets over the soil.
I’m grateful for every small sign of progress — every new leaf, every bit of green pushing through the dirt. These moments remind me that growth isn’t always loud or immediate. Sometimes, it’s simply about showing up, watering consistently, and letting time do its work.
🌸 The Beauty Beyond the Harvest
Beyond the vegetables, my flowers have been putting on their own quiet show — bursts of color that make me stop and smile, even on busy days.
These blooms remind me to look beyond productivity and yield — to appreciate the peace that comes from simply being outside, hands in the soil, surrounded by the hum of life.
🌿 Gratitude for the Process
Out here, I feel still. I can hear my thoughts soften. The garden gives me space to reflect on my days — the challenges, the growth, and the gratitude that anchors me.
Even when I’m pulling weeds or pruning back overgrown vines, I feel thankful — thankful for the quiet moments, the lessons in patience, and the sense of peace that only nature can offer.
Every bed, every leaf, every bit of soil carries a small prayer of hope — that what I nurture now will one day feed me and my family, not just in body but in spirit.
💭 Reflection Prompt for Readers
Take a moment this week to step outside — even if it’s just your porch, a park, or your own small garden. What’s one thing in nature that reminds you to slow down, feel grateful, or keep growing?
Share your reflections in the comments — I’d love to hear what brings you peace this season. 🌸
Haven Harvest Living 