bounty, and not
Aug. 21st, 2012 12:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ceeloveI was ruminating on some kind of gardeny updatey thing, while I harvested this morning.
Like, there are tomato hornworm cemetaries, their innards becoming the stuff of parasitic wasp larvae instead of my plants becoming the stuff of hornworm innards. I encouraged the wasps with plants that lure beneficial insects. Permaculture: it works, bitches!
Or, ye gods, when I plotted this garden in the winter and planted in the spring, I expected it to be feeding, y'know, plenty of people. Now and for many weeks this summer, I'm the only one in the house eating measurable amounts of it. You can imagine the plotting I do to prepare and share my surplus, which is both great and surreal. I was going to take pictures of today's ridiculous bounty and mock-lament my fate of how to deal with it.
But with my hands full of harvested cucumbers, I met an old homeless Asian man on the sidewalk. I see him around, harvesting recyclables for the return fees. We found enough English and gestures between us to transfer several pints of cukes and tomatoes to his keeping. He was clearly very pleased, and I was very glad to give them to him, and yet the whole thing left me with an overall feeling of pensiveness and melancholy. I share so much food, but it goes to my friends, who are not undernourished. It was pure chance that I could give my fresh veggies this one time to someone who really needs them, and pure chance will not feed him well tomorrow, nor the hundreds of millions who spend much of their lives hungry.
So. Lots of happy ruminations on gardening going gloriously well. Rapture at the plants bejeweled with tomatoes, harmony with the pollinators so busy alongside me, a fair sense of awe at what my hands and some soil and the sun have wrought...all somewhat muffled by sorrow at how very rare it is for people to have this kind of luck and magic at hand.
Like, there are tomato hornworm cemetaries, their innards becoming the stuff of parasitic wasp larvae instead of my plants becoming the stuff of hornworm innards. I encouraged the wasps with plants that lure beneficial insects. Permaculture: it works, bitches!
Or, ye gods, when I plotted this garden in the winter and planted in the spring, I expected it to be feeding, y'know, plenty of people. Now and for many weeks this summer, I'm the only one in the house eating measurable amounts of it. You can imagine the plotting I do to prepare and share my surplus, which is both great and surreal. I was going to take pictures of today's ridiculous bounty and mock-lament my fate of how to deal with it.
But with my hands full of harvested cucumbers, I met an old homeless Asian man on the sidewalk. I see him around, harvesting recyclables for the return fees. We found enough English and gestures between us to transfer several pints of cukes and tomatoes to his keeping. He was clearly very pleased, and I was very glad to give them to him, and yet the whole thing left me with an overall feeling of pensiveness and melancholy. I share so much food, but it goes to my friends, who are not undernourished. It was pure chance that I could give my fresh veggies this one time to someone who really needs them, and pure chance will not feed him well tomorrow, nor the hundreds of millions who spend much of their lives hungry.
So. Lots of happy ruminations on gardening going gloriously well. Rapture at the plants bejeweled with tomatoes, harmony with the pollinators so busy alongside me, a fair sense of awe at what my hands and some soil and the sun have wrought...all somewhat muffled by sorrow at how very rare it is for people to have this kind of luck and magic at hand.
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no subject
Date: 2012-08-21 05:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-08-21 06:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-08-22 11:34 am (UTC)Maybe twenty years ago I read a New Age book, not a very good one, that was talking about the collapse of the current paradigm. The author was writing that when this happens the people who have done the work to create alternative community will be able to go on with their lives, and she was asking her mentor about what would happen to the rest of the people. Her mentor said that those people would have their stuff - possessions - and they'd learn they couldn't eat money. I thought that was incredibly harsh and lacking in compassion.
Of course I support sharing as possible. With that being said, the people I know and know of in Boston who grow their own food would not be enough to keep the whole city going (at least, I don't think so) if food stopped being trucked in from elsewhere. So I guess I just wonder where the responsibility ends, and imagine there could be some difficult choices ahead.
For instance, would you give your kid subsistence-level amounts of food so you can give other kids the same amount your kid is getting? Or do you give your kid regular, thrive-y amounts of food and share what's left over after that? That's the kind of thing I'm thinking about.