An intro to my story

Connie Cottingham • August 12, 2011

Hi, I’m Connie, and I have been gardening for decades. I am a landscape architect, a lifetime master gardener, a garden writer, a garden club member and spend almost every day in a botanical garden. I am also a gardener in the midst of change, emotion, travel and deep friendships. I am a gardener who is discovering that both gardens and people are constantly changing, each completely unique yet beautiful and with different strengths. I am discovering that both gardens and people respond very differently and quickly to care and neglect. I want to hold the hand of an uncertain gardener and tell them how to nurture their space and themselves, how gardening can bring joy and lessons, and how travel to other gardens can also bring joy and lessons.  And I want them to understand the many ways a garden can give back to its caregiver.

In 2010 I lost my father, then my husband instantly to heart attacks. Dad left me with his little red pickup. He often told me “It’s a good truck” and that it would be mine when he was finished with it. He also often said “I look good for 92, don’t I?” Even to strangers in elevators. And he did. I actually thought he would end up giving me his truck when he decided he shouldn’t drive anymore. I was one of four children who each found a different way to connect with our father. I connected with Dad through gardening. As I grew up in Northwest Arkansas I weeded the vegetable garden and strawberry patch under his direction, took care of the orchids when he traveled, helped him build new planting beds, munched on apples as I walked and talked with him in the orchard, and visited botanical gardens and nurseries with him.

Bruce left me with the land – the land he promised we would find and cultivate together when he proposed to me in 1999. We bought our home on 5 acres that had recently been timbered and had an abundance of nandina, English ivy, blackberries, and red tip photinia. But it also had topsoil, which is not that easy to find in Georgia and the most amazing pecan tree that spans over 80’. On the day Bruce died the tall phlox were in full bloom on land that had a dozen chickens, 5 vegetable patches, 13 grapevines, 4 hops vines, 5 blueberries, 5 blackberries and 3 fig trees. I stared at the vivid pink phlox in those first few days after losing Bruce, amazed that it stayed so bright, beautiful and fresh as my whole world exploded.

Bruce also left me with many great memories: of picking poke salet in the front yard together, burning brush as we cleared the meadow (he made sure we had a garden hose, I made sure we had a bag of marshmallows), conversations about each tree planted as we wandered the front yard, raising baby chicks and a pair of goats to maturity, the porch swing he gave me one Christmas,  harvesting wild elderberries on our property that he added his homemade wine, and discovering other gardens with him. And stories – stories he told of growing up as a sixth generation Arkansan, of the land given to his family for service in the Spanish-American war, and his childhood with sleeping porches, swimming holes, fried pies, and dinners from the garden and pasture. He promised me 50 years (the only promise he didn’t keep), but I am so grateful for the years we did have together that I cannot whine about not getting more.

So here I am, with the land and a truck and a love of gardening that both men shared with me.  They were my cheerleaders, my council, the men I most loved in my life – and the two people who most encouraged my garden writing.

2010 was eventful in other ways. I also earned my a Certificate in Native Plants through The State Botanical Garden of Georgia, a program requiring 80 total hours of classroom instruction, volunteer time and field trips. I was named the Georgia Green Industry Association’s 2010 Communicator of the Year and Employee of the Year at The State Botanical Garden of Georgia, where I am coordinator of public relations and special events and work closely with our amazing Board of Advisors. In late 2010
I received a Chanticleer Scholarship, awarded to botanical garden employees for professional development and assuring that I would attend the 2011 annual meetings of the American Public Gardens Association and Association of Garden Writers. I also turned 50, took my first cruise (which reignited my love of travel), and served as president of my garden club (hey! – I live in the town where garden clubs started).

My writing career started almost 20 years ago when one of my landscape design clients marched into the local newspaper office with my newsletter, announcing “You need a garden column and you need her to write it!” That was the spark that led to over 600 newspaper garden columns for Morris News Service, the Athens (Georgia) Banner-Herald and Northwest Arkansas Morning News (many under my maiden name of Connie Fugedy). A columnist for Georgia Gardening and Southern Distinction magazines, I have also been published in Conifer Quarterly, History, Lee, Museum Store, Country Journal, GEORGIA, Columbia County, Georgia Family and New South Gardener magazines.  As a Mark Twain fan, one of my biggest thrills was when I found out one of my columns was published in Hannibal, Missouri’s local newspaper.

I became a master gardener in Arkansas in 1990, went through the training again when I moved to Georgia and am now a Lifetime Master Gardener. I am also a registered landscape architect, receiving my degree from the University of Arkansas (I’ve already admitted my age, let’s not dwell on how many classes have graduated since mine).

I invite you to join me as we discover ways to make our gardens and us as gardeners thrive and bloom. Our gardens are expression of ourselves and continually changing wonders. Whether it is the latest variety, baby birds filling a nest, a tip that saves time or eliminates pests, a handful of blooms brought into our homes, or a perfect tomato picked from our garden, there are numerous joys and discoveries in our gardens for us to share.

By Connie Cottingham February 26, 2026
Everyone is talking about the grand reopening in June. More space. More galleries. More excitement. But waiting means missing something special. Here are eight reasons why I think now is one of the best times to visit Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art. It’s free – which expands your freedom. Yes, parking and admission here are always free. That’s easy to take for granted since most Bentonville area museums do not charge admission. But that free admission means you don’t have to think about your budget and time in the same way as if you were paying a $20-40 entry fee. You can stop in to join a tour or fill time between appointments by visiting one gallery.
Greeting card: Pineapple art print and portrait of woman with text.
By Connie Cottingham February 22, 2026
I had to email a friend immediately. This fall an exhibit on Maria Sibylla Merian is coming to the Philbrook Museum of Art in Tulsa, OK. It went straight onto my calendar — along with a note to check back for lectures, tours, and related programming. Who is Maria Sibylla Merian? Well, if anyone asks me who my favorite artist is, who is one of my sheroes, it’s Merian. She was a botanical illustrator, scientist, explorer. She was also fearless, curious, groundbreaking, and well-traveled. She was a single mother. She was open to other cultures and deduced her own opinions. She sold everything and brought her daughter with her to another continent at age 52. Oh, and she lived from 1647 to 1717.
Bay laurel plant in a black pot, with green leaves, and a plant tag.
By Connie Cottingham February 22, 2026
“Add a couple bay leaves,” suggested a friend. I had been moaning that I had looked everywhere I could think and could not find Bruce’s pinto bean recipe. Soak the beans overnight, add onions, ham, cumin, salt, and pepper into the Crock Pot. I found a similar, delicious recipe, but it was not the recipe. And Bruce’s recipe did not include bay leaves. But Kris said every bean recipe should have a bay leaf. And there is a bay tree on my windowsill. OK—at about 14 inches tall, tree may be a bit of an exaggeration. Bay leaves are commonly used in Mediterranean, French, and Spanish cooking, adding a subtle, savory flavor. Bay is also traditionally recommended to help with upset tummies, flatulence, and digestion. Ah—so that is why you toss bay into pots of beans. I hadn’t heard that before. Nor did I know bay leaves are sometimes boiled into custards.  During my snowed-in week, I made two pots of soup and a pot of beans, snapping off a leaf or two of bay and harvesting from the vase of sage and rosemary for the soups. My bay has adjusted well to indoor life and has plenty of leaves to share. Fresh bay leaves are a bit stronger than dried—one book describes the fresh flavor as “more eucalyptus-y.” I’ve always thought of bay as very mild. Although they are evergreen trees in the Mediterranean, bay (Laurus nobilis) takes well to pruning and can be grown in a container. I plan to keep mine a manageable two feet tall and happily invite it into my kitchen every winter. If you see a bay plant, I recommend buying one. None of my books recommend growing them from seed, and it can take a year or more to grow one from a cutting.
By Connie Cottingham October 1, 2025
1. The locals know which destinations suit your interests The people who work and volunteer are proud of their town and happy to have you discover all it has to offer. Once you start talking, they will light up as they give suggestions on what would interest you. Yes, there may be an abundance of breweries in an area, but a visitor center singled out the one that was also a cut flower farm to me. 2. Free parking while you get your bearings It takes a moment to figure out what is what in a new town. Many visitor centers offer free parking while you plan your visit with helpful staff and volunteers. 3. Restrooms and coffee ... welcome finds on a road trip. 4. Warnings and options When I mentioned that I wanted to experience the Blue Ridge Parkway on the way home in the Hendersonville (NC) Welcome Center, they warned me that weather had shut a segment down. They suggested another route where I enjoyed an outdoor lunch, art galleries, and a scenic drive home. Visitor centerscan also point out festivals and events to either enjoy or navigate around. 5. Gift shop A visitor center gift shop often carries postcards, local products, shirts, books, and other keepsakes to remember your trip. I seek out stickers to label my travel journals with the destinations inside.Photo in text here 
By Connie Cottingham September 24, 2025
Travel Sketching: A Secret Tool for Authentic Travel Writing Sketching is a way to experience and capture moments, emotions and a location.
By Connie Cottingham September 22, 2025
September 22 is the Autumn Equinox — a day when the sun rises due east and sets due west. For gardeners, this isn’t just trivia: it explains why our plants thrive (or struggle) as the seasons shift. This is a science, with a series of calculations and variables that explain everything. I don’t think that level of detail is important here, so I am going to explain this short, sweet, and simplistic. If you are super Type A or demand precision, you may want to stop reading now before I frustrate you. Honestly, my parents’ birthdays are within a day of the equinoxes (Happy Birthday Mom!), so that is how I remember them. I turn to a computer for a precise date when I need it. The date hovers a bit, because a year is 365.2422 days, with leap years that almost correct that. So the fall equinox is September 22-23 and the spring equinox is March 20-21. On an equinox, everyone on the planet enjoys 12 hours between sunrise, which is due east, and sunset, which is due west. The sun pretty much treats us all equally on an equinox. Because the Earth’s axis is tilted 23.5 degrees, in summer the sunrise and sunset move further north. The amount of daylight changes, varying with how far you live from the equator. Is this true in both hemispheres? Yes, but keep in mind that December holiday parties in Australia happen on their long summer days, maybe on the beach. One year I was in England during the summer solstice in late June, when the sun seems to be as far north as it travels. The sun was up before 5 a.m. In summer, London has about 17 hours of daylight. Miami, closer to the equator, gets about 14 hours of sun in late June. Things change in winter, when Miami may have 10-1/2 hours of sunlight while London has less than 8 (sunset before 4 p.m. – yikes!) So what does all this mean to a gardener? If you are not certain where due east and west are in your garden, observe the sunrise and sunset on September 22. In the Northern Hemisphere, days are getting shorter at a rapid pace, until winter solstice on December 21, when the sun will rise furthest southeast and set furthest southwest. At this time, the midday sun will be lowest in the sky. This is why our homes’ eaves are designed as they are, to provide shade from a higher summer midday sun while letting warming winter light into our windows. In the winter, our north walls get no direct sun, so it is easy to think North=Cold. Wrong. In the summer the sunset is northwest, so the hottest part of the day has sun shining on my north walls. I have hydrangeas against my north wall, but July-August I need to make sure they are well watered to handle the baking sun. When you plant a tree, realize that shade patterns change with the seasons. One time I emerged from a camping tent after a morning frost. The tents under evergreen pines that created a warming effect had no frost, while more exposed tents had a layer of frost on them. Deciduous trees provide little protection in winter, but cooling shade in summer. And that is just how a tree canopy can create a microclimate. Now mix in winds and planting zones and architectural details and a million other things and you realize that getting to know your garden will take at least one full year. You can see that as challenge/delay or as discovery/wonder. This is one reason all gardeners kill plants. It is part of the discovery. I’m sorry if it feels like your head will explode. Having a garden means you will grow with it, always learning. Step 1 is easy: Take a few minutes to walk outside and figure out where N-S-E-W are tomorrow. According to studies, less than half the population can point north from their home.
A green vase filled with flowers is sitting on a table.
By Connie Cottingham May 22, 2025
Note: This post was originally written as a Love Note from the Garden. Sign up for these free, weekly emails at the bottom of this page.
A row of cherokee purple tomato plants in pots
By Connie Cottingham March 28, 2025
It is late March in Northwest Arkansas, with temps in the 70s, sunny skies and spring fever hitting hard. Plants are in front of stores and garden centers are buzzing. Everyone wants to plant NOW. Although I have seen many peppers and tomato plants for sale, I would not buy one or plant it in March. As beautiful it is today, next week will have three mornings at 40 degrees or below. Yes, that is above freezing, but many tropical plants will die at higher temperatures. Tomatoes should be planted when evening temperatures reliably stay above 50 degrees. Studies say even if the tomato plant looks OK, growth can be stunted when planted before the soil warms up. Yes, it is hard to resist. Here are a few things to do instead. Watch for Blackberry Winter. It’s a thing – practically every year. When the blackberries bloom in early spring, a late cold snap or a frost hits. The average last frost date in Benton County, AR, is April 19 and my blackberries have not bloomed yet, so there is a good chance April will have some chilly nights. Be a rebel - buy the tomato anyway and plant it. You are not risking your children’s inheritance and getting your hands dirty is therapy, so if you want to do it, do it. The biggest commitment is the space in your garden, which could be producing greens and vegetables in April instead. Plant cooler season vegetables now and harvest those until you plant the tomatoes (and peppers) later. There are radish seeds that can be harvested in only 24 days, baby spinach that can be harvested in 28 days, and lettuce and spinach plants for sale, so you could get a crop in before planting your tomatoes. Win/win. I must admit, when spring fever hits hard I sometimes buy a six-pack of lettuce for instant gratification. Lettuce in greens, burgundies, and with speckles look so pretty in a freshly prepared garden bed. March is a good time to plant potatoes. onions, or fruit plants like strawberries and blueberries. There’s plenty of food crops you can be planting now. Are you upgrading your big pots on the front porch? Move the old containers to a sunny side yard and plant potatoes, strawberries, or herbs in them. Use this time to build raised planting beds and enrich your soil.
By Connie Cottingham March 24, 2025
Jackson, Mississippi
By Connie Cottingham March 10, 2025
I recently picked up a couple of fennel bulbs in the grocery store—not quite sure what I would do with them, but completely enchanted by the idea of trying something new. Honestly, this isn’t unusual for me. I often shop in garden centers the same way—choosing things that delight me without a clear plan in mind. Cooking with Fennel Fennel seems to be more common in European kitchens than in the United States. In her Around My French Table cookbook, Dorie Greenspan suggests adding a fennel bulb, cut into strips, while sautéing onions in her leek and potato soup recipe. Her approach is genius: leave the vegetables in the broth, so every serving feels fresh. It can be enjoyed as-is, pureed and served cold as vichyssoise, pureed into a creamy soup, or topped with croutons. This variety keeps leftovers exciting rather than repetitive. While I’ve grown fennel before, it’s always been for my beloved swallowtail butterflies rather than the kitchen. That alone makes fennel a worthwhile addition to the garden. But I’ve since learned its foliage can be used in salads, as a garnish, or even in flower arrangements. Growing Fennel in the Garden Fennel ( Foeniculum vulgare ) is a tender perennial and a member of the parsley family. To grow it successfully, plant seeds in succession during spring and fall, as fennel tends to bolt in summer heat. When thinning seedlings, don’t let the pulled plants go to waste—they’re excellent in sandwiches and salads. Fennel’s versatility extends to ornamental gardening, too. Consider planting it in a flower border where its feathery foliage, especially the bronze fennel, provides striking contrast among flowers and shrubs. Some sources report that fennel doesn’t always play well with other vegetables and can cross-pollinate with dill, so plan your garden layout accordingly. If you’re not growing fennel for seeds, pinch off the blooms to encourage larger bulbs and prevent self-sowing. The blooms themselves make a delightful garnish. For Butterflies and You Whether you grow fennel for its fine-textured foliage, culinary uses, or to host swallowtail butterflies, every reason to add it to your garden is a good one. Swallowtail caterpillars devour a lot of foliage to transform into butterflies, so planting multiple fennel plants is a must if you want to share with them. Bronze fennel, with its deep-hued leaves, makes a particularly striking addition to the garden.