a confession

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I have to come clean to you all....


I’ve been unfaithful.


Yes, it’s true. I...I...I started another blog.

It wasn’t that I was unhappy here, that my needs were not being fulfilled. Only that, well, someone else needed me more, made me feel special.

I know, I know…I can guess the question in your mind. Darling, I’m not sure the answer will make this any easier, but yes…yes we are in love.

You must hate me now.

Don't look at me that way.

Oh please…do something, say something…what must you think of me? I beg of you, your silence is unbearable....


Alright, so I’ll never write for soap operas. I’m definitely more the “I’m outta here, I’ve booked passage on a steamer, I won’t be sending any postcards from Brazil” kind of gal.

The truth is, I’ve been putting together a blog for my homies at my CSA pick-up. How’s that for Greek?

CSA? Never heard of it?

CSA, my man! Community Supported Agriculture! It’s all the rage among us earth-conscious, eco-friendly, compost-your-leftovers, if-it’s-yellow-let-it-mellow, put-a-soybean-in-your-gas-tank crowd! Buying your produce at the at the Super Fresh is soooooooooooooo last season, out-the-door with Everybody Loves Raymond and beige ultra-pointy shoes under too-long pants.

So, here's the scoop. Once a week, a lovely, local, family-owned farm (you hear that Mr. Cougar Mellencamp?) delivers 27 boxes of fresh, organic produce right to my doorstep. No the boxes aren’t all for me, silly. Can you imagine me eating 27 boxes of vegetables? I don’t own that much toilet paper.

No…what happens is that then other folks who are members of the CSA drive, walk, and ride their bikes to my house and pick up their produce. And you read that correctly: it is possible to walk somewhere in the suburbs and have the trip serve more utilitarian purpose than simply pumping blood, shedding calories, and making yourself ill by looking at all the golf-course green lawns and wondering at the amount of chemicals used that are now seeping into the ground water. Why don’t more people plant vegetable gardens here? Or keep sheep?

And, no, I’m not actually much fun to be around.

This week, we received lettuce, more lettuce, scallions, radishes, spinach and strawberries. Genuine, red, strawberry-smelling strawberries that - my Netherlandish following will be glad to hear - we enjoyed sans balsamic vinegar.

Now, sure, I still had to amend our pantry with some staples: milk, bread, eggs, chicken nuggets. And, it's been a cold spring. If this week’s produce box were all we had to live on, say, once the oil well runs dry and the mainstream farms go under as the petroleum-based fertilizers they are so dependant upon suddenly vanish…well, sure, in that case my family might be re-enacting one of the more haunting scenes from Pearl Buck's The Good Earth as I ration-out one radish for breakfast and begin breaking open the rainsticks we made at Girl Scouts to get to the dried lentils. And then we’re back to the toilet paper dilemma. Not to mention that now riding my bike 40 miles to the farm to pick-up the produce is a bit more utilitarian than even I am comfortable with, potential heart problems aside.

I don’t even like radishes all that much. And I hear we’re getting kale later-on in the season. I already have a few good recipes for kale, but please, if you have one that makes kale taste like peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, I’m yours on a velvet futon.

Okay, got to go now. I have to fuel-up my mini-van and run some errands.

Well, honestly, who do I look like?

Jim Kunstler?



Seriously, Jim, I love you. But, in this photo, it looks like you just ate an organic prune.

And Les Nessman is looking for his tie.


(By-the-by, I'm back here for real. The other blog thing? A fling. A fancy. I'll go there once a week to post the produce updates and new recipes, but that's it. My toilet paper jokes are lost on that lot.)
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1 comment:

anne said...

Ha!

You go girl! That's so cool! You get to raid everyone's vegetable box and they'll be none the wiser! Kidding.

No, it really is cool. That's a great thing you're doing and it will be easier on your children's understanding of their mother when in, oh about 10 years or so, you move to Hegins to raise alpacas. They can say "You know...I think it all started right around the time all the vegetables started showing up on the doorstep..."

I'm so proud of you, you earth-loving woman, you! Woohoo!

So...is there any Community Supported Horticulture? For say...people who might want...um...hostas?

Just asking.

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