Getting our daily bread....

I have been reading Animal Vegetable Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver.  It's a non-fiction tale of the year her family spent trying to live only consuming food raised locally and mostly from their own farm.  It's a noble concept, and has made me think more about my own eating habits (love those mangoes from overseas!) without actually feeling guilty, just more thoughtful and optimistic about trying to do more "local eating."

I already am part of Henry's CSA, so that is a good feeling.  My own garden, however, is pitiful at best.  Tomatoes, peppers, and basil.  That's it.  So I'm thinking about getting more of a veggie garden going next year and actually using heirloom seeds to start some of the plants indoors early, and...well, I'm just thinking about it.

My yard is blessed with lots of shade, so I have to figure that out, too.

Then there are the local farmer's markets, which I could certainly frequent more often.  In fact there is one today in Uppity Town Normal.  (That's the only way I can remember to say Uptown instead of Downtown Normal which I think is now a misdemeanor in McLean County, saying Downtown Nor...oops, so is writing it...nevermind).

The book has me thinking not only about good tasting and healthy food, but of course the energy wasted in transporting food around the world and packaging it and so on.  That has left me nostalgic for my lifestyle in Ecuador.  Minimal carbon footprint lifestyle.

1.  I walked or took public transportation (buses mostly) everywhere.  Literally everywhere.  Maybe a taxi once every few months.

2.  I lived in a house for part of the time that was smaller that my kitchen is now, and had no need for a furnace or air conditioning.

3.  In that little house, the chocita as we called it, which means little hut, I had no hot water.  Short showers meant less water wasted.  Brrr...

4.  I had no TV and used an internet cafe if I wanted to email.

5.  I did have electricity, a gas stovetop for cooking, and for a few months a small refrigerator. 

6.  I did my grocery shopping at the Sunday Market...I could buy everything I needed there.  Rice, any fruit that grew in the country (bananas, pineapples, strawberries, mangoes, papaya, mora which is like blackberry, and more and more and mora), oats, all my vegetables, herbs to make tea, and so on.  Everything.  Then I'd have lunch at the market...hornado, which is a whole roasted pig with hominy corn cooked in the juices.  A few slices of meat and the hominy on a plate.  The woman that I always bought from (yes, there were several selling whole pigs slice by slice at the market) liked having one of the local gringas in her line...it was good for business.  So she always smiled and gave me a piece of pork to eat while I waited. 

7.  The only thing they didn't sell at that market that I needed was potatoes.   That's because a few blocks away was the Plaza de Papas...the potato plaza where every Sunday you could buy about 40 different kinds of potatoes, and also shoes.

8. No, I don't know why you could buy shoes at the potato market.  I forgot to ask.

9. Oh wait, I forgot.  The other thing I couldn't buy at the market was milk.  Here is how I got my milk:  Twice a week when I needed milk, I would put an empty pitcher out, inside the water pump shack, with the money inside.  My neighbors who lived down the hill and had cows in the valley up above us, would bring milk straight from the cown, take the money, fill the pitcher, and then holler:  LA LECHE...so that we would know it was there.  I'd take it in, boil it, skim off and save the cream, and that would be that!  Delicious!

Well, you get the idea.  One millionth of my carbon footprint now.  Even though I have a fairly modest lifestyle for the US, it's kind of crazy how much more energy I use.  So I'm going to at least try to get more of my food locally and find a place that sells both potatoes and shoes...oh wait, that would be Walmart.