Salad Days

It has now rained here for the last week.  The temperature cooled and flirted with near frost levels several nights, which was enough to move my squash and cucumber starts from outside enjoying the heat of the driveway back inside under the shelter of the garage.  The weatherman said the last week was more like March than May.

The sun will finally return on Monday, and I'm expecting a substantial change in the garden.  A growth explosion will be inevitable.  This will mean adding weeding to the list of chores.  Second and more noteworthy, there will be salad greens to cut besides the arugula that populates the edge of the driveway.

The last plastic container of greens until Christmas!

This small act is significant to me because it's a baby step towards self-sufficiency and sustainability.  I don't want to sound too righteous here - I drive a lot, buy a lot of stuff, and waste a lot of everything like a number of Americans.

Because of that the garden remains my most basic encounter with life's elements and reminds me how satisfying the simple act of being outside in relationship with growing food is.

Several varieties populate various beds around the yard: European Mesclun Mix, Yankee Hardy Mix, Arugula, Reine des Glaces Lettuce, and Russian Kale. Salad greens are easy to grow.  Ideally seeds should be sown every couple weeks so there is a constant supply until the heat turns them too bitter.

There is a lot of satisfaction walking outside and cutting greens.  This extends beyond freshness and flavor.  Those plastic tubs make a lot of corporate sense in terms of efficient shipping and attractive point of purchase display.  However, there are a lot of hidden costs incurred in terms of using energy:  transportation costs incurred for my salad; there is no extra water wasted; and there is no plastic created and molded to ship and store my salad.

The only hidden cost here is the energy needed to add a few hundred steps to my FitBit.  Less plastic, fresh salad, and more exercise.  Maybe, just maybe, this is a small victory.