of cabbages and things
Monkey was a little concerned about his last post. He didn’t think it was right to talk about veggie gardens in this blog. Too little. Just a feelgood thing. Not going to make enough of a difference.
I get that, but let me tell you a little bit more about Monkey and me: he’s the cynic and I’m Pollyanna. So I’m going to say why I think even a pot with a tomato plant stuck in it, yellowing away on your windowsill and not producing much at all is still a good thing:
Because it’s a reminder. That all that shiny, plastic-wrapped stuff we buy in the supermarket doesn’t come from nowhere. A couple of years ago there was a huge storm on the north coast of NSW and we had no bananas. For months.
Connections between people and land and resources and the environment are all laced together, all interdependent. We are all a part of this.
I’ve always been a bit in love with the idea of growing our own fruit and veggies, even though I totally suck at it. I guess this is because I grew up on my nana’s 1/4 acre block in Oakleigh and we had an apple tree, apricot, 2 cherries (magic at Christmas), plum tree, nectarine (which also contained the world’s greatest cubbyhouse), a quince and an almond. The trees were a part of our family lore – we always talked about the year the apricot was struck by lightning and split down the middle, we never ate an apple without a knife in one hand because they were rotten with coddlin moth grubs, but no apples ever tasted better.
At my other nana’s house, Pop had the veggie patch and there were always fresh tomatoes, potatoes, peas, carrots and beans.
I know. It’s an old thing and blocks aren’t that big any more and who has the time anyway. I spend most of the year buying my tomatoes from the supermarket and wondering why in hell those guys on TV can grow such great veggies when mine all either die or never get big in the first place.
But we made a big effort this year. And by that, I mean a couple of weekends. And I work a lot on weekends, so it’s not like I have all my Saturdays and Sundays to spare. But I think we’ll be harvesting our first zucchini by the end of the week, and the tomatoes are hanging like little green Chrissy balls on the plants, and there are flowers on the peas and chillis, and I reckon if we can do it, then anyone can.
Even if it’s just a hanging pot with a few tomatoes in it, it’ll look kind of Christmassy, and they’ll taste great, and you’ll be reminded that tomatoes are real.