Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • I have a haphazard garden.

    The owner before me planted tulips, hostas, and boxwood hedge. She kept the outside groomed--orderly.

    I have inadvertently killed her tulips. I moved her hostas and they wilted. I planted mint to kill the weeds, but it took over half the backyard.

    Vines from the creek bed era, before the house was rolled over logs and pulled along by horses, have sprung up and crawl over fences/porch pillars.

    And the annuals my husband planted two summers ago--while his cancer riddled father supervised--have sprung up again/ out lasting his father by a year and a half.

    There is a rough patch of grass where my son practices stick fighting and a spot on the tree where it was hit by lightening. Holes in the backyard mark where the dog dug up the cat's grave.

    I have a haphazard garden. It is storied.
    • Share

    Connected stories:


Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.