Jun. 5, 2008 at 9:58am
(no, not entirely from Vespa envy)
Yes, I am deeply envious of those of my Feed friends with motorized two wheeled bundles of Italian fun.
But "green with envy" isn't what this post is all about.
Today, I received my first Smith Brothers Dairy delivery. Last week, I planted a couple of tomato plants purchased from the downtown farmer's market, I lovingly placed the mesclun bought there in the crisper (and have been munching on it, happily since) and then, inspired, I went to GardenSphere and bought several containers and seeds, to start my own little edible container garden. In containers, I figure the dogs have less chances of getting into the snow peas, the strawberries, the mini carrots, the radishes, the mesclun, the compact cucumbers, and... there was something else, I can't remember it now.
As a kid, we did lots of green things; I was deeply resentful in mid-winter when my mom line-dried my jeans and the resultant freeze-dried things would thaw to the point of dampness about mid-day, leaving me looking as though I'd wet myself. In the spring, I was deeply resentful, having to weed and water the garden. It wasn't fair that my friends were lazing about the local pools while I was working up a fine farmer's tan and blackened fingernails as an unpaid laborer. In the summer, as we would harvest things like tomatoes, cucumbers and zucchinis, my resentment ebbed (until my mom stared making things like bizarre, soupy zucchini and dill casserole-- and forcing me to eat them.)
Now, it comes as a bit of a shocker to me, that I've become nostalgic about things like the smell of a freshly picked tomato; that I want to be able to walk more like I used to in England, to buy a couple of groceries daily and carry them individually in neat-o baskets rather than load up my car with plastic; that I want to be able to buy gas, like, once a month, hang my clothes dry, and reduce my dependence on electric and petro-based powers.
Today's dairy delivery represents another step toward a more local existence to me. I don't know what the carbon footprint difference is, between delivery from Kent vs driving to the store three times a week and buying a mass produced organic milk. I just know that the first sip of that milk seemed sweeter somehow, because it seems to me to represent a step back to a simpler existence.
And that makes me a greener shade of happy.
comments  | posted under dairy delivery, going local, producing produce, TacomaComments
by Mofo from the Hood on 6/5/2008 @ 3:41pm
|You must be an "Old Fashioned' Girlfriend in Tacoma, because I don't think that very many "Modern" Girlfriend's in Tacoma can risk getting their painted nails dirty; let alone find their way to a kitchen and boil water without burning it.|
by intacoma on 6/5/2008 @ 4:05pm
|if your gf has a toy dog thats a redflag in my book|
by jcbetty on 6/5/2008 @ 5:26pm
|actually, I'm well "old-fashioned" --enough so that I rarely sport painted fingernails, actually enjoy the creative pursuit called cooking (when it's not required of me every single freakin' day) and ...gasp... can bake a cake from scratch, too. eat your heart out, Mrs June Cleaver. Oh yeah, and I crochet and sew, too. So sickly domestic, it might make you think I'm old and un-hip, or something... (oh, wait.)
(and no, In, to toy dogs for me, though we did have custody of Butch the Poodle shortly after Boyfriend in Tacoma lost his father... Butch the Poodle, however, was not cut out to be Poodle in Tacoma, so he went back to SoCal, where he's happily living out his dotage in a blind state getting daily insulin injections. BUT That's a different blog entry in itself...)
by Heather on 6/6/2008 @ 3:32pm
|MoFo, you hanging out with the wrong girlfriends.|
musing her way through arts, culture, dining, shopping, exercising, and parenting, all while wearing a pungent, truffle-like aroma.