I get noses wrinkled at me when I say I’ve been working out in the garden.

“You know, they have things to prevent weeds and stuff.”

But, I do not want things in my garden. Putting things in my garden is, like, the equivalent of having a kid and then sending them off to a nanny to be raised. What’s the point in having it if you’re not going to do anything with it yourself?

Plus, everything tastes better if you have a hand in growing it. That includes kids.

My gardens are my zen moments. I go there to recharge and recenter, or to process the noisy in my head. Bad day? I hit the garden to weed. I peek out the window every morning – just after firing up the coffee pot, of course – and just observe. Like a black cherry tomato is going to bust a move right in front of my eyes or something.  Between my efforts and what we get from Bay Branch Farm, we benefit from some pretty good eats for a majority of the year. My garden isn’t a novelty, it’s a necessity. It is my responsibility.

Yesterday was D’s birthday. I cooked for him. Well, I always cook for him but I made it extra special last night IF YA KNOW WHAT I’M SAYIN’.  He remarked on how I have changed his palate – that he now can appreciate the intricate complexities of avocado used in a cheesecake because it’s not drowning in several cups of refined sugar.

Our food is a necessity. It’s our responsibility. It should not be an afterthought. It brings us joy and love and strength and life and the will to live. This stuff is golden.

You cannot forge quality relationships from a base of corn syrup solids.

Originally published at batty.us. You can comment here or there.