On the General Cussedness of Life as told in Meadows and Metaphors — On Wednesdays the mowers come. Blades gnash the lawn into submission. Weedwhackers hew harsh, hard lines at the boundary between the prim, well-mannered turf and the unruly Memorial Meadow. Some meadow flowers get mangled in the process. Hot gasoline-fueled exhaust pipes burn fragile foliage. Meadows don’t love machines. That particular…

Who Knew A Plant Could Be So Cuddly? — You know how some people are so wonderfully huggable, you could just eat them up? That’s borage. Borage rhymes with porridge. Officially named Borago officinalis, this Memorial Meadow denizen also answers to more colorful names: cool-tankard, starflower, tailwort. Tailwort? Porridge? Okay, truly none of that sounds particularly huggable or delicious. …