An old family story sits behind this place. A neighbor of my grandfather's had just bought a new plant and asked him for help getting it in the ground. He came over, dug the hole, arranged the roots, and patted the soil down.

The woman fussed — about the soil, the sunlight, whether he'd left enough room above and below ground. Finally my grandfather stood up and said, "Grow, dammit." As a proper Southern lady, she was shocked at the sentiment (and the cursing).

Eighty years on, for me that's the whole ethos of the orchards: let plants thrive the way they want to — the way they were built to.

hello@grow-dammit.com