A Kid From Brooklyn - 1948

Growing up in an asphalt jungle does not portend a future fascination with all that grows. The jaw dropping look each time a seed ,buried for dead, raises itself above the surface in defiance of logical thinking and how a transplant , plucked from contentment, roots and thrives. Not only do they live ,but there, in front of your skepticism, are fruits, vegetables , flowers, and leaves of countless descriptions.
For this to take place, a small boy was blessed with summers by a lake in a wonderland of many things green and an old retired man who shared expertise gained over several generations. A man who carried a knife and a salt shaker to visit an August garden where a ripe tomato would be eaten ,"As the good Lord intended". I have never since tasted a tomato of such perfection. That first bite whispered ,in a shout, " You have found something to keep your interest for the rest of your days!" I knew then that I would be "Growing The Good Life".