I’m not saying this current insurgence is all due to us. But whatever word you chose (or we chose for ourselves), we are the ones bringing real food back to the table. I think there is a larger combination of factors at work than those few examples but the bottom line is: we have forgotten how to grow.Īnd there is a movement in the works. Could we blame ourselves for being lazy? I’d wager yes. Could we blame the fast pace our society suddenly took on? Most likely. How has our society become so disenchanted with real food? Could we blame the convenience revolution? Probably. Putting more of those tasty green morsels in my mouth-feeling them pop between my teeth-than ending up in the bowl. I remember helping pick peas for dinner and shelling them on the back porch as the sun got swollen and started to dip it’s belly low to the horizon, as it is want to do towards the end of summer. Rinsing it off with the cool well water spewing forth from the garden hose, and admiring all it’s myriads of lumps, wrinkles, bumps, and general abnormalities and then savoring that first bite. Of walking out to the dark heavily scented loamy earth, feeling the gentle kisses of a carrot’s fronds on my palm as I slowly unearthed it from it’s cozy warm home. Just to varying degrees of health I believe.īut since then, I found I am reminiscing for that of my youth. I spent my formulative young adult years as many do, at college, where I can assure you my diet was far from the ideals some folk try to follow these days. Summer holidays spent camping in a rickety canvas tent, where our only entertainment was what was around us campfires, lakes, hiking trails, fireflies. Of riding my bike to the corner store for a Freezie (also full of chemicals and high fructose corn syrup, I know), and staying out “calling” on friends until the street lights came on. I can wax nostalgic for the younger years-playing out on my Nana and Papa’s verdant lawn, surrounded by corn fields and wrapped in warm summer breezes scented with cow manure. This is what has happened and will only get worse. Watching a mother scold a child for eating a grape because “it’s covered in dirt and germs!” but when peeking into her cart seeing it is filled with a pile of frozen and boxed food stuffs, full of unpronounceable ingredients and preservatives. Walking in the grocery store I am reminded of this even more. People are so rushed and busy and preoccupied with the mundane that the magical has been lost. We have spent so many years fighting for the ever present buck that we have not only forgotten what it was like “back in the day” but also the skills necessary to live a simpler life. We have reached a climax.Īs a species, as a planet, as a whole. It is at this point realization sets in that perhaps being a little more prepared could be the difference between life or death. Having a well stocked larder, full of glittering mason jars in all the colours of the rainbow becomes a constant thought, plaguing them with the unreachable oasis of pure nourishment. Those cans of soup and beans aren’t stretching quite as far as the constant moans of the undead. As days pass their meager excuse for a pantry dwindles. However, it’s now their turn to do the eating. Houses have become impenetrable fortresses where their owners have sequestered themselves under lock and key (and plywood window dressings) and are managing to stay uneaten. There are countless animated corpses walking the streets, civilization has disbanded as we know it, and everything from here on out seems pretty bleak.
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