When you live in a state where the vast majority of fertile black soil is cultivated for crops, it's relatively easy to take agriculture for granted. Even as local family farms have been driven to the brink of extinction by large corporate operations like Cargill and subdivisions which are rapidly creeping outward from the city limits, you can't take a drive in the country without seeing thousands of acres of corn and soybeans. Unfortunately, much of what is grown in Elkhart County is now being used as cattle feed to support our insatiable appetite for meat and the bio-fuel industry. Other than our local farmer's markets in Goshen and Elkhart, where our considerable Amish population are the primary suppliers of fresh fruits and vegetables, most of what we consume is grown out of state and is purchased at our local Meijer store.
Earlier this week, after spending several hours working in the yard and planting a few blueberry and blackberry bushes, I paused for a moment beneath the shade of a large oak tree and stared at a sunny patch of earth in our backyard. With the current oil catastrophe in the Gulf of Mexico and our sour local economy, I have been thinking a lot about about what our family could do on a limited basis to help sustain the environment. I don't know if it was the heat or the dark black soil that stained my hands, but the twenty by ten foot stretch of grass (and a few dandelions) suddenly looked like the perfect place to plant a garden. After mulling it over for a few minutes and then discussing it with my wife and children, we decided to collectively take the plunge and try our luck as suburban farmers.
The positives appear to far outweigh the negatives. As a child I can still vividly recall the joys of eating green beans and tomatoes picked fresh from my mother's garden. Unless my memory is playing sentimental tricks in my head, there is nothing that tastes better than something you have grown and nurtured with your own two hands. Other than possibly upsetting our new next door neighbors, who have a lush yard and expensive landscaping that looks like something you might see in a copy of Better Homes and Gardens, we all agree that the "family garden" will be a good opportunity to spend some much-needed time together and discover if we have green thumbs or minds addled senseless by imagination.
After digging through our shed and garage for almost an hour, we came to the conclusion that we have all of the tools we will need to use for this modest endeavor. Nothing fancy. Nothing expensive. In an effort to keep it simple and affordable, we are going to dig up the yard by hand this weekend (using a diabolical-looking garden cultivator, spades and hoes) and then plant tomatoes, peppers, carrots, cucumbers, and perhaps a few canteloupes. Nothing too ambitious- just a few of the basics for a good salad or a homemade batch of spaghetti sause. While this certainly wouldn't have kept the Pilgrims alive for more than a week or two during their first harsh winter in New England, it should be an interesting experiment in home-grown, sustainable vegetable gardening.
As long as we don't accidently dig up our deceased pet rabbit, guinea pig, or one of the half a dozen or so goldfish that now claim our backyard as their eternal resting place, I think we are in for an interesting summer.
