And we have a little herb garden, which survived the winter thanks to global warming. It makes me feel like a cool, old Italian housewife, that I kept my rosemary alive outside all winter.
Working in a garden calms me down.
One day, I'll disappear and hide in a corner of Britain. I'll own a bakery in a village, live above it, have a big garden because I like mowing. I want to get up when I feel like it, let people queue for my products, and when they're gone, shut the shop and think about tomorrow. Creating magic - that's my dream. And I'll do it.
I walk out to my backyard garden at certain times of the year, and I can't get 30 feet without stopping for 20 minutes because the goumis need trimming.
I love my garden. I love my privacy. I'm very fierce about it. I try not to let too many people into my home. That's my private place.
I want to get to the point where one day I don't have to have anything but a rug and a microphone stand on stage and still be able to sell out places like Madison Square Garden, like Bruce Springsteen does.
I have a little gypsy palace here in New York. It's all mirrors, and I have my own garden. It's so secluded - the closest thing to a caravan I could find!
I play with my grandchildren. I tend to my garden, which I love. Of course, I love to read, and family is really what it's all about.
There are blessings in being close to the soil, in raising your own food even if it is only a garden in your yard and a fruit tree or two. Those families will be fortunate who, in the last days, have an adequate supply of food because of their foresight and ability to produce their own.
I have an organic garden and love being able to say, 'I'm going to see what I can pick to throw in my salad.'
