Last night, we made fajitas using our own home-grown bell peppers. They were fresh and delicious {and much more photogenic after being washed}. We also have a large crop of hot peppers, which I delight in looking at from the kitchen window as they hang heavy and red, but can't eat. Those babies have Jared's name all over them.
Experiencing some small success with gardening has stirred up all kinds of feelings in me. I am often torn between the romance of city living {Cafes! Film Festivals! Shopping!}, and the deep sense of stability that I imagine would come from a homestead. I can picture living on acres of land, in a straw bale house with solar panels and composting toilets, farming and raising animals with my family. Such a life seems appealing when compared to the fragility of the desert suburb, utterly dependent on a government system for water and electricity. {Wow, that makes me sound like a hippy.} As much as I love the modern aesthetic, a portion of my heart will always be devoted to self reliance.
For now, I'll have to be content to try not to kill learn to raise our small garden. It's a step in the right direction, and hopefully, that's enough.
1 comment:
I often fight the same inner battle: city vs. country living. Living in an isolated part WY has made me feel completely deprived of city life; yet, part of me doesn't mind the more natural, outdoorsy, and seemingly healthier way of life, too.
Great post. Thanks.
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