Saturday, March 23, 2013

The Woe of Inactivity

For the last couple of months I have been dreaming and thinking. Thinking and dreaming, alternately. I've been considering what I want to plant. What I want to raise. How my homesteading dream will work.

And I can't stop, because it's that time of year. Spring! Flowers are popping up outside my window, admidst the snow, from their bulbs nestled underground. This is the time I would normally start looking at seeds and starting them inside on my windowsill. Maybe, even, I would start buying containers to plant in.

My focus has shifted a little bit as I've aged; no longer am I set on two very strong green bean plants or a few productive tomato towers. I want quantity. I want practicality mixed with the beauty.

Eating string beans as a main dish (as we have been calling them on the East Coast) once a week, for three people, is 2 Lb. We make 'em good, Chinese-style, and serve them over brown rice. Starting out, my homestead will just be me and another person. 2 Lb is still a good amount though, since we can use it in soups and stews or as a side dish. So if we assume 2lb of string beans a week, or 3 out of every 4 weeks....And we want to eat green beans year-round (fresh, frozen or canned)... 50 wk x 3/4 x 2 = 75 lb of green beans. That is A LOT of green beans.... and only just one type of food source. Let's not get into the requirements for me (as a vegetarian).

When I dream about my homestead I dream in small details. I want a big butcher block in the kitchen. Chickens, lots of them. A big row of sugar snap peas. I want to sit in the shade and listen to The National and shell them. I want to pick crate after crate of apples, until my arms are sore. I want to work on home guides (think "adult lap books", for those homeschooled-minded) for medicine, plant identification, and growing things. I want to spend a long day re-organising my pantry and putting things in order and having to much food in the freezer so I can't find things. And I want to revel in the glory of knowing that I have created such a  life for myself as the one I am living.

But I am not living that life. I am sitting in my bedroom in New York, looking out the window at the covering of snow on the ground. I can't plant things. I can't stick my hands in the soil, and besides, it's too cold out there. This climate is unfamiliar.

What am I doing here? How did I ever think I could be away from the temperate north west for a whole growing season? First here, then vagabonding in Europe. Hopefully there I'll get the chance to spend some time in other's gardens.

I am sad. Very, very sad.

Here are a couple of pictures to round out this sad post, of harvests past:







My employer/housemate has suggested I (well, given me the task of) plant him a plot of tomatoes and basil near the side door. I've taken up the challenge. It's a small area, maybe 6 or 8 ft squared, with bricks that might need to be moved inside the space. But hopefully it will help me and my plant deprivation syndrome. I'll save that for next time.

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