Doing what works

I recently considered the possibility of going back to work. Now, all you SAHMs out there, don't get all hot-headed and bitchy with your "raising children IS work" argument. Sure it's work, but not the salary kind I'm thinking about.

But after some serious thinking following my initial interview, I called to cancel the second interview. In my pros/cons lists, the side came out nearly even, not nearly enough to ditch the tan, buy a car and go suit shopping.

Here's what I learned in my silent deliberations.

• Buying a car would be almost a necessity. That means a car payment, insurance, gas and the probability I'll actually use this car (unlike the clunker sans working air we currently own which I avoid at nearly all costs) meaning more money on gas. This wouldn't be very Mothering Earth-like behavior.

• Homecooking would take a backseat to sleep. Cooking good, wholesome, inexpensive meals at home is time consuming. In fact, when I went on the interview I called my husband and asked about lunch. He asked if I could just pick up Taco Bell. Taco Bell?! I haven't eaten this kind of low-grade food in months. It was delicious, but I had to run an extra mile just to justify it.

• Speaking of running, that would be the end of that. Again, sleep has to take priority. I run in the morning when everybody's home. I can't very well go for a run at night when the girls are in bed before Steve gets home. And darn it all if I don't want to spend at least 30 minutes with my spouse everyday.

• Childcare. This is a biggie. I'm not opposed to childcare, but it's expensive and it really goes against this whole simple life we've concocted for ourselves. One more year before my oldest starts kindergarten and then it's all over but the teen-age angst.

• All the little things. The line drying. The garden. The homemade cleaning products. These are the products of a person focusing on the home. I realize it would be nice to communicate with adults on issues unrelated to potty training, but potty training will come and go. Jobs will come again. This simple life of using less, wanting less and loving almost every minute of it, this could come and go.

But I'm going to hang on as long as I can.

Give peas a chance

I hate peas. Yuck.

That was until last night when I picked fresh peas from my garden, barely boiled them and served with butter and salt. Delicious. I read that frozen peas, because they're flash frozen just after picking, generally taste better than grocery store "fresh." It's surprising, but apparently peas quickly (in about a day) lose their nutritional quality and flavor.

But just out of the garden? Heaven.

My only complaint, and this is a problem with everything from my garden, there just wasn't enough. I don't have adequate room to grow the number of plants needed to provide a satisfying pea side dish. Even the most prolific plant is just one plant.

It's true, I do have a decent-sized yard, but we also have two giant shade trees that keep things nice and cool around here in the dog-day summer months. They also keep the chilly wind out when things around here get more blustery.

So what's a Gardner girl to do? Well, herbs are something that grow pretty easily and don't need a ton of room. I cut what I need and it always grows back. I also have some pepper plants that aren't as square-footage hungry as say cucumbers, zucchini or melons.

Besides, I have my CSA and that provides our four-person clan with plenty of veggies to go around.

Growing success

I think I've mentioned this before, or maybe a few times, but my thumb is not naturally green. So I super excited about my minor success this spring.

I grew lettuce (from plant) and radishes (from seed) in my new little garden. It turns out all the books are right; anybody can grow radishes. My 4-year-old, having helped sow the seeds, even ate some of the radishes she helped grow. And the lettuce was as tender and sweet as any at a farmer's market.

But I was a little disappointed it wasn't the BEST salad I've ever eaten. The stuff from my CSA farmer is just as good. I guess that means it's just as fresh, which is a good problem to have.

Now that the lettuce is gone and the radishes are thinning, I've planted peppers and tomatoes. I'm conducting a little tomato experiment by buying an heirloom variety from a farmer and some standard breeds from the hardware store to see which produces better. The heirloom plant, at $3, better do well to compete with the six-pack of Better Boys for the same price.

Seeds of success

I'm nowhere near being able to claim my gardening project a success (I'm somewhere between four weeks and four years away from being able to actually eat anything I've planted) but I'm, yet again, hopeful.

My radish seeds have sprouted in the garden. I don't have much hope for the lettuce plants that my fat beagle is continually attacking, for whatever reason.

And in my south-facing front window, I have the start of basil, chives and, today, parsley. My daughter's popcorn seeds she started at the library story hour are looking the best of the lot. Perhaps I'm Christine (the) Gardner by name only.

My daughter, she was a Gardner right at birth.

Ready, set... Garden

Our family finally got the time to start our garden project. I'm really nervous my raised-bed plot, which we built yesterday and came out extremely good looking and sturdy despite my family's handy-gene deficiency, will look just as neat and plantless as it does at the moment.

But I began feeling really great about the prospect of growing veggies with the girls this summer.

In fact, I was feeling almost hopeful. That sounds super corny, right! But my daughters got in the dirt with me yesterday, planting our tiny radish and carrot seeds (I read these grow great together because radishes mature first, making space for the slower-growing carrots) and larger pea seeds. And bonus, my makeshift compost pile hasn't yet attracted rodents.

Now I'm thinking, "Maybe we can do this. We can teach the girls about nature, grow some kick-ass veggies and have a great time."


Or maybe it's the April Garden Flu that dies down sometime around the second week of drought and heat in mid-July. And this after $28 on lumber, $14 on topsoil and a few bucks on seeds, probably more than I'd spend if I bought grocery-store radishes every week between now and Labor Day.

Oh well. Now, if I can stop the girls from rolling around in the nice, fresh black dirt (not a joke), then we'll be all set.

But you can't ruin my euphoria, much like you can't convince me that daily red wine is a rock-solid solution to future heart problems. I'm going to go ahead and believe what I believe.

Growing a garden

There's nothing quite as wonderful as fresh vegetables.

Last year, we joined a CSA that only expanded my appreciation for growing stuff. I learned to cook kale, Japanese greens (the original fast food) and Jerusalem artichokes, which are not from Jerusalem or an artichoke.

I learned fresh radishes and the sliced red and white "radishes" at a salad bar are not at all the same thing.

So I'm giving gardening a go this year. I'll grow mostly simple things like tomatoes and lettuce. In fact, I'm so new at this that I had to get a book from the KIDS section of the library. I know... embarrassing.

I have a lot to say about gardening, from my dad's vegetable gardens, to my aunt's canned tomato sauce, to my reluctance to go too far on the side of vegetable-garden crazy for fear my neighbors will talk about me.

But for now, I'll just cross my fingers, hope this endless winter actually ends one day and fill my slosh bucket for compost with all our fruit and veggie scraps.

Cheap Green Tip 9: Grow your own

I kind of hate this tip. Mostly because I know that gardening does not come easy for many people (me, me and me) and it's actually kind of scary and expensive to get started.

But it's well worth it if you have the time and space. And if you don't, just grow some herbs in your kitchen to save money and the time it takes to scrape bits of gooey parsley off the bottom of your crisper drawer.


You might wonder, if I don't really garden, how in the hell am I supposed to write about how great it is? Well, because my family had a gardener and it was totally awesome. There's nothing in the world like fresh tomatoes on a hot August picnic. And there's nothing greater than opening one of your own jars of tomatoes long after the plants call it a season.

This summer, my family will again try to not have a failed garden. We stick with the easy stuff, tomatoes and peppers mostly. We have a place in the corner of our backyard that gets a lot of sun, although I've heard it's better to put a garden near the house in order to keep a better eye on it.

But sun trumps proximity.

We'll also attempt a small compost pile, mostly because I feel so awful anytime I throw carrot peels away. Those little bits of leftover produce apparently help create a pretty kickass soil.

Tip: If you just can't do it, either because you're a closed-in urbanite, you live on a rock or your thumb is as black as a Hummer-owner's heart, join a CSA. It's kind of expensive, mostly because often you have to pay upfront, but you get a big enough bounty each week to try your hand at freezing or canning for those veggie-lacking winter months.