I have a confession...
I'm paralyzed when I walk into a grocery store.
Stay on the periphery where the real food is.
Read the labels...high fructose corn syrup, guar gum, soy derivatives.
Then came the books...Joan Dye Gussow, Barbara Kingsolver, Vandana Shiva,
and Michael Pollan dammit
Now I can't buy a plum tomato without visions of that darn tomato being picked by immigrant farm workers living in abandoned refrigerators in Immokalee.
I rant in front of bags of grapes imported from Chile
I cringe at the plastic in which everything is wrapped, boxed, and displayed.
I wonder where all the leftover produce goes when it's
just a little wilted
I stomp up & down the aisles saying:
"are you kidding me...ARE YOU KIDDING ME???"
my peanuts love that part
I decided I was going to grow all our food.
My husband looked at me like I had two heads, but knew MUCH better than to say anything
So this was our garden
ripped out old tennis court...
trucked in composted organic soil...
planted stuff...watched it grow
Whoops...forgot one thing...
the darn peanuts HATE VEGETABLES
So what happens to the mom when she's just a little wilted