I planted my garden last weekend. Really, more potted than planted. Gone are the days of the sprawling garden in the backyard yard of the apartment on Cuyler Avenue, and figuring out what to plant and what would require the least amount of attention and considering what Ken might have appreciated. My new "garden" is a 6 foot by 6 foot patio, surrounded by a manicured garden maintained by my condo building's landscapers. Of all the items on my checklist for buying a place, a

Spring has finally sprung in Chicagoland--after a long and crappy winter. The uptick in the weather coincided with a week-long staycation. And gnawing on my work-free agenda has been getting the garden planted--something Ken looked forward to and planned for every year. It was a true rite of spring in our house. Though it wasn't my thing, he'd ask for my opinion and help  in planning for and caring for it. It's my third consecutive year of planting and maintaining the garden