Last Tuesday morning while fulfilling my CSA commitment, I was soaked in sweat pulling thistles out of the veggie patches at 5:30 AM. Yesterday, I was drenched by the water clinging to the garlic scapes. I harvested enough to fill two wheel barrows.
There are no words to express my gratitude for this abundance. The seeds we planted in April and May are delivering their promise of green leafy vegetables, broccoli, and my personal favorite - peas. Snow peas, snap peas, old-fashioned peas - when I pluck the pea and bite in, I’m am in a sacred place. The only thing better than fresh-picked peas, is fresh picked corn. I’m enjoying the anticipation.
I feel guilty this morning for putting the lamb’s quarters and chickweed into the compost. But after a four-hour work shift, another hour harvesting and then the rest of the day washing, drying and getting it all into the fridge or freezer, I’m exhausted. I forgot how hard we worked on my family farm.
I cannot ignore the devastating floods in the Midwest. This just adds to my concerns about our food supply. I’m beginning to think that it would be a wise investment to purchase a freezer.
I don’t know why our culture and our media persist in ignoring the consequences of Nature’s Laws. I don’t like the creeping feeling in my gut that says we are very likely to face bare shelves, even if we can afford the fuel to get to the store.
If I do purchase that freezer, I’ll be able to parboil and freeze the wild edibles. I may even be able to negotiate for any crops not harvested and en route to the compost.
Right now, the lettuce and spinach are bolting, like they do at the end of spring every year. Their life span is over and soon the tomatoes, squash and other summer veggies will ripen in abundance.
I’ve already offered to pay two people for lessons in canning.
Floods and crops not planted are just part of the food issues that worry me. I won’t eat anything packaged without reading the label. I’ve long since stopped eating red meat and farmed fish. It tastes like cardboard. Genetically modified foods are not labeled.
As I write this, National Public Radio confirms that a tornado did touch down in New York’s Hudson Valley this past Monday. I grew up in this area and never experienced a tornado here. I’m sure if a tornado had hit in the 364-year history of my home town of Guilford, Connecticut, it would have been documented.
I don’t like feeling scared. It interferes with my ability to feel rooted in faith. So, if it takes a freezer and a few hours of farm labor to get past this fear, it’s a wise investment.
I can wait to buy my next computer or iPhone.