It’s Like Nature Is Writing Us A Check
My wife has always talked about the value of raising a garden at home. She would talk about the need to dig in the dirt and raise vegetables in a way similar to how I would talk about my need to chase trout on remote mountain streams. Occasionally she would also mention the financial and health benefits of growing food from seed to table. I never paid much attention. Until this year.
I have a few husband-type excuses for this. While we were dating, her garden was down the street from her house, in a neighborhood P-Patch. Since it was out of sight, it was also out of mind, except for the occasional statements like, “hey, you know this _______ came from the garden, right?” In our first year of marriage my role with the garden was more in the manual labor realm: I built the boxes that would become the raised beds, shoveled dirt into those beds, helped stake and tie the peas, and dug some potatoes. That was about the extent of my interaction with the two 3×8 boxes of dirt that brought forth a wide range of foods that I eventually consumed.
For whatever reason though, this year it’s all clicked. Perhaps it was as a result of the fact that we haven’t bought lettuce for 3-4 months (and not because we aren’t eating any). Maybe it’s because there has been several times where a sentence like “can you run to the store and get some kale” has been replaced by “can you run outside and cut some kale?” Or, maybe the clicking moment was just a short while ago, when walking around our backyard I realized that over the week or so we will be able to go outside and grab a handful of the following: lettuce, kale, carrots, tomatoes, beans, blackberries, and small strawberries. A few weeks after that we’ll have collards, radishes, squash, beets, a few raspberries, and chard. Basically I’m saying that our backyard is becoming our supermarket…and I dig it. Pun intended.