My last publications are a radical departure from my previous efforts’
Instead of focusing on we saw rigs, we walked here and we ate this, my content is now centered on the history and science verse, including the anthropology, archeology, culture, ecosystems, geology, natural history and wildlife biology.
I hope that you will enjoy my improved content.
In 1964, when I was a lad of a mere eleven years, my Daddy, permitted me to have my very first garden. I was so excited that I simply couldn’t stand it.
For his seeds, he always mail ordered them from the Henry Field Seed and Nursery Company of Shenandoah, Iowa. When his package was delivered by our rural mail man, Mr. Allen, it contained a little box stamped “Children’s Seed Pack.” He threw it to me and said, “Here, boy. This is for you.”
My mouth hanged open like it was Christmas morning and I suddenly ripped it apart with all my might. It contained all manner of seeds, some of which I had never heard of before, including radish, swiss chard, spinach and zucchini. “Are we going to plant all of these?” I asked him.
“No, boy,” he replied. “You’re going to plant all of these.” So, I did. Each grew well and tasted even better, except for the radishes, which seemed as hot as a firecracker. I never planted them again and I never cared for them again, not even in barbecue slaw.
Over the decades, he taught me all that I know about gardening, and if I know anything at all, it is entirely to his credit.
2019 marked my fifty-fifth year of Southern gardening and my son, Johnnie D. Cobb II and I decided to write this book and submit it for publication. It is, therefore, dedicated to the memory of my Daddy, the elder Johnnie Dixon Cobb.
