My mom taught me that black walnuts only grow in high-quality, good soil so when our Mennonite ancestors were looking for a place to settle, they found the black walnut and knew this land would be fertile.
Black walnut trees also choke out any growing competition which may say something about our relationship to Indigenous people.
Sometimes I would sit in the concrete windowsill with Grandpa while he hammered the shells open, and I would eat the walnut bits he had collected in an old yogurt container. Growing up in an intergenerational home had many unexpected gifts, and you can read more of them here, and in the rest of our January issue that explores intergenerational living.
Reflecting on growing up with my grandparents reminds me of how beautiful a simple lifestyle is. Grandpa’s example of resourcefulness has stayed with me. More than that, it was precious to experience growing up in the same home as my grandparents. | 
