It’s CSA time again!
Whoo-hoo! CSA! CSA!
CSA, ALL THE WAY!!!
Go CSA, Go CSA, Go-go, Go CSA...
Whoot, whoot, whoot, whoot!
I did talk about this before. Did you not study for the test?
Okay, granted, this time last year the only people reading my blog were my sister and some guy who found me by Googling “Exploding Face Disease”.
(By the way, I hope that guy’s okay. Mister?)
But, hey hey! CSA!
Community Supported Agriculture!
Here’s my post from last year on the subject.
And here’s some more info from some .gov site.
In basic terms, CSA consists of a community of individuals who pledge support to a farm operation so that the farmland becomes, either legally or spiritually, the community's farm, with the growers and consumers providing mutual support and sharing the risks and benefits of food production. Typically, members or “share-holders" of the farm or garden pledge in advance to cover the anticipated costs of the farm operation and farmer's salary. In return, they receive shares in the farm's bounty throughout the growing season, as well as satisfaction gained from reconnecting to the land and participating directly in food production. Members also share in the risks of farming, including poor harvests due to unfavorable weather or pests. By direct sales to community members, who have provided the farmer with working capital in advance, growers receive better prices for their crops, gain some financial security, and are relieved of much of the burden of marketing.CSA. So now you got it, right?
Hold the...jeepers! A government site using the word “spiritually”! I suddenly feel so..so…dirty.
But you know what?
It’s organic dirt, so it’s okay!
So, how did I find out about CSA and how has it changed my life?
Well, it was also about this time last year that I first heard the words "Peak Oil" and began my long decent into madness and hysteria. Okay, maybe it was more like a short drop, but nonetheless, I became super-aware of just how much petroleum I was personally gobbling up every time I purchased a scallion or tomato that was being shipped an average of 1,500 miles just to be stewed beyond edible recognition in my crock pot.
And then there were all the petroleum-based fertilizers and pesticides being used to grow that sad tomato, a tomato that didn’t even taste like a tomato. A tomato that tasted more like the product of some high school science class cloning experiment; a tomato conceived without loving commitment or even without naughty lust in the backseat of your Dodge Colt, the kind where you started out just clumsily groping in the front seat but then the seat flips backwards and next thing you know you have a bottle of cheap champagne spilled over your lap and one foot jammed under the dashboard and you accidentally kick out some wiring and your date’s head gets jammed in between the seat cushions, but you’re young and flexible and motivated and it‘s all good, however on the drive home you get pulled over by a cop because the windshield wipers won‘t stop and your lights are flicking on and off because the dashboard wiring is wrapped around your ankle, and of course, you’re in big trouble now because not only does your date have the impression of a seatbelt buckle on his forehead, but you both smell like spumante…
That’s a tomato, right?
And those are the kind of tomatoes you’ll get when you join a CSA!
And if you think the tomatoes are kinky, wait until you taste the kale. And the spinach.
And the strawberries?
All I’m saying is that before you break out the CSA strawberries, you’d better make sure the kids are in bed. Because we’re talking knee-trembler in a back alley, folks. Hot pants and hotter panting.
(My husband gets so embarrassed when I talk about our vegetables.)
Brief intermission while author has a salad and a cold shower.
So Peak Oil, Global Warming, Bird Flu…
I’m so over that.
Peak Oil has been debunked again and again. The truth? A rumor started by Reynold’s Wrap and the tin-foil hat crowd.
And of course, Global Warming has been revealed to be a marketing gimmick invented by Coppertone and Al Gore. It doesn’t exist.
In fact, did you know that if you let a Chevy Tahoe running in your driveway for the rest of the day and leave the AC on and roll down the windows, far away along the East African Rift Valley snow wil begin falling on Mount Kilimanjaro (global warming, deforestation; tomato, tomahto…mmmmmm…tomatoes....) while somewhere in California, Jessica Simpson returns to her normal UVB-deprived color?
Don’t even get me started on Bird Flu. I have it from a very good source (a toxicologist friend who thinks it’s a real hoot to scare the guano out of her hypochondriac friends) that even if bird flu were to mutate and begin to readily transfer from human-to-human, as a nation we already have at our disposal three tried-and true mechanisms for early-warning and mass protection:
1) alert the president
2) hold your breath, and
3) don’t touch anything.
I’ve been practicing. I can hold my breath for 39 seconds. Then everything gets sparkly and I need to lean on the counter.
But, the sparkles are nice. Shiny…so shiny.
So, I’ve completely detoxed on gloom-and-doom. What a relief! And after freeing myself of the 600-pound disease-ridden albatross that stank of carbon emissions and Hugo Chavez’s
butt middle finger, I was still left with the warm glow inside that you can only get from sex supporting local farmers and sex organic in-season produce.
And what’s even better?
When I’m peeling out in my Toyota minivan, watching my “current gas mileage” indicator burn down to 2 mpg, firing all 6 cylinders, leaving some poor doom-and-gloomer Prius driver in the dust, well sir, that Prius driver will be left with a floating image of the CSA - ALL THE WAY sticker that’s proudly plastered on my back bumper.
And that doom-and-gloom Prius driver will have to think
“You know, she can’t be all that bad. Sure she’s the devil in a minivan. And I bet she’s a chicken handler, too.
But, she's supporting locally grown agriculture.
So, you go girl. You’re all right by me.”
And then he’ll make sweet love to a cantaloupe.
Spread the joy.
Here’s a resource for CSA’s in the USA.
If any of you local folks are interested in partying down with my CSA hook-up, I’m a supporting member of Spiral Path Farm in Perry County. The first veggie delivery was today (new memberships are prorated), and it was a big box chock-a-block full of field-fresh spinach, greens, scallions, more greens, tomato sauce, and apple sauce. The website contains more CSA info plus membership, growing season, and pick-up location listings. The farm currently enlists a slew of volunteer host families (like yours truly) located throughout the East and West Shore at whose homes or businesses you can pick-up your weekly box-o‘-goodness. Also, a few pick-up locations in Philadelphia.
Best of all, members can visit the farm and get “extras”. Last year, we drove up and picked strawberries and beans, and later that summer, the farm had enough extra tomatoes to sink a fleet of SUVs. All for the taking.
Lovely, luscious, organic tomatoes....
C'mere baby, you know you want some.
Author gets up from computer to go downstairs and fondle the spinach.