I was about seven or eight years old when my grandmother on my father’s side first mentioned my heritage to me.  Most of the stories she told me were tales of survival in the west central part of Arizona where she grew up, married and worked as a teacher.  One particular day she chose to tell me about my family in Ireland who emigrated from County Clare.  When I asked her to tell me more she said, “Ah, ‘twas fineail clar.”  She went on to describe the green hills of Ireland but all I heard was “Fin Clare.” From that moment on, for me, those two words became synonymous with hearth and home.  Years later, after some digging, I finally found a translation that made sense.  “Fin” meaning “fine” (lovely, pleasant, rare) and “clar” meaning “place” (area, corner, home, abode,). There were other translations, but those are the words that gave meaning to me in the context of her story.  It explained my own yearning for a “wee bit of land” to call my own Fin Clare.  

     In the meantime, I live in an RV with limited space and restrictions, so container gardening satisfies my urge to “till the soil”.  It’s by no means sustainable…but it yields some tomatoes, berries, salad and herbs.  More importantly, it pleases me every day.  The flowers and succulents are healthy and abundant this year and their beauty is a never-ending source of enjoyment.  Last year’s tomato plants yielded tomatoes through Thanksgiving.  Someday, I hope to have a greenhouse and grow my vegetables throughout the year.  

Various Annuals

Herbs in grow bags - First attempt at "air pruning." 

Tomato plants not pruned.  Too wild.
Back to pruning next year! 

Strawberries.  Each plant was able to yield one pint...
before the birds found them.