Yep, I’ll never have a garden. Never, ever.

Ready or not, here comes Kudzu

Ready or not, here comes Kudzu

“Gardens are not made by singing ‘Oh how beautiful,’ and sitting in the shade.”~ Rudyard Kipling

The soil has been turned, the seeds have been sown, the water and sunlight added…now the real work begins. Thinking back to my grandmother’s garden in Luray, I remember watching her bend and dig every summer morning to empty her plants of the grass and weeds that were a constant threat to the vegetables from which she created magical suppers. She would again enter her garden in the evening to reap the products of her labor, and then proceed to wash, cut, cook, and share them. As a child, I only saw the bugs, the heat, the prickly leaves and vines, and the fact that she chose to subject herself to the itchy, sticky, sweaty toil. I swore I would never, ever, ever have a garden. Right.

Like many, my husband and I have decided to pursue the American dream and start a home-based business. I filled out all the proper paperwork, answered all the necessary questions, reviewed start-up costs, did a financial analysis, obtained licenses, jumped through hoops, stood on my head, rubbed my nose while patting my belly, gave blood…you get the idea. Then I got to attack the FUN part…branding, designing a logo, debating names, building a web presence, ordering business cards, creating print ads, networking and launching my new company; the stuff everyone does…in the beginning.

While marketing plans can be daunting, and advertising budgets overwhelming for others, they are the foundation for Kudzu’s mission: To provide quality, professional public relations and marketing services to private citizens and small businesses at an affordable price, in order to make a huge impact and provide measurable results. In other words, I can do for other small businesses what I do for my own, and have a blast doing it.

That doesn’t mean it’s easy, though. Days on end spent in front of my laptop designing, drafting, editing, correcting, connecting and posting are evidence that this tedious work is the reason why too many small businesses neglect to attend these tools. Websites are out-of-date, if they exist at all, Facebook pages are boring or unattended, there aren’t enough local businesses profiled on LinkedIn, Twitter, or FourScore, forget about mobile apps. Busy office managers can barely throw a block ad at the newspaper for a once-a-week run, much less tweet about it or run a contest on Facebook. What’s a QR code, and how does it make life easier for an overbooked doctor or burnt-out office staff? Blogging, that’s for stay-at-home moms and cute, perky little women who don’t have to support themselves, right? Wrong. These tools are the poster campaigns of the ’70’s, the news ads of the ’50’s, and the Joe Camel t-shirts of the ’80’s.  They are necessary, and they are time consuming…IF they are done right.

This is the kind of tending I will do with enthusiastic determination and a guilty joy at being paid to do what I love, through Kudzu. This is what drives me to proceed with a company named after a weed, in a small community on a tight budget. The challenge of fixing a marketing problem lures me in, like the promise of a fresh supper made from homegrown veggies. The joy is in the creative application of design elements, and the reward is the knowledge that I know how to tailor a plan to tweak out just the right results.

My dad, waving in front of my grandmother's flower bed, to the right of her vegetable garden.

My dad, waving in front of my grandmother’s flower bed, to the right of her vegetable garden.

Planting Kudzu may not make me financially wealthy, but it is definately going to make me rich with satisfaction, enjoyment, experience and exhausting fun. I get my grandmother’s dogged determination to endure summer atrocities now, she reaped many rewards from for her efforts…and even more important she found joy in the planting.


What the heck is Kudzu anyway?


Like me, Kudzu has a southern heritage and an indestructible determination.

Kudzu is probably best known as “the vine that ate the South.”  It grows so fast, and so durably that even its strong reputation can’t precede it, but this plant is like the urban legend of the southern states. While it was originally brought to North America by the Japanese to Philadelphia during the centennial celebration, this aromatic, edible ornament became the favorite of Florida florists and gardeners who touted its versatility.  The vine gained its reputation, though, during the Great Depression, when government programs like the CCC took advantage of kudzu’s growth rate of almost 60 feet per year to strategically place it in the ground for erosion control. 

The application of kudzu was appropriate, it certainly stopped the treacherous fall of rocks and rubble onto the path of oncoming automobiles, but the results were more than they bargained for along the slanted shoulders of southern highways!  Kudzu’s tenacity is legendary, growing so well in southern climates that local governments soon found themselves in a battle to get rid of the vine that consumed mountainsides, covering everything in its path including entire forests, power poles and lines, houses, barns, automobiles…anything that did not move fast enough to get out of its way. 

kudzu imagekudzu covers

Growing up in the Shenandoah Valley, I often crossed the New Market gap on the way to my grandparents’ home in Luray, Va.  My grandmother spent car rides singing, telling me stories, and educating me about my home and heritage.  Kudzu was a frequent topic…as it covered the mountainsides along the familiar windy roads.  As the years passed, I continued to be fascinated at the new structures that would become covered by the “mile-a-minute vine.”  Kudzu encroached on parking lots, hung from towering power lines, and eventually absorbed homes and businesses, showing no mercy or favor toward anything on the Page County mountainside. 

Mostly, my adolescent self thought of kudzu as a sort of “serves them right” lesson for the bureaucratic adults who added the foreign plant to the sacred Shenandoah soil, and I have never lost my admiration for the thriving vine. To me it is a symbol of the dogged rebel attitude of the South, a graceful lady that smells wonderful, blooms beautiful and belies its tenacity and strength with the same feminine charisma of a dixie debutante. Kudzu also gently reminds me of my grandmother’s strength and intelligence, calling to mind her core beliefs in higher education, family values, women’s ability to lead, proper grammatical use, and invaluable sense of always doing the right thing no matter how difficult.

When beginning the daunting task of starting my own business, the first task I tackled was picking a name. As a marketing professional and lover of all things creative and unique, I did NOT want MY business to be lost in the sea of boring company names laden with initials, owner surnames, and complicated vocabulary that leaves an audience wondering “what exactly does a communications consultant and public relations subsidiary do, anyway?” I know the value of branding, and I wanted the name to represent ME, its potential to make clients goals GROW without restraint, and to have a design aspect that is fun and visually identifiable. Sure, Kudzu is a sentimental symbol of my home and childhood, but it not only makes me smile in reminiscence, but it also represents the exact message that I want to send about my company, my abilities, my creativity, and all the possibilities it can make for my clients.

kudzu sunsetTHIS my friends, is Kudzu.