You Want Me To WHAT?!?

     When I first married, I was quite surprised to learn that I had married a pioneer.  Oh, yes.  He liked gardening.  I don’t mean the kinda’ gardening like my mama used to do; roses.  No, we moved around so much that the only gardening I ever recall her doin’ was up to three rose bushes.  Naturally, I grew up with a rather slanted view of gardening.

     Then, I got married.  Our apartment was in the midst of several businesses, with a parking lot taking up the bulk of everything in the center; our part of the parking lot, included.  Our asphalt front yard (aka parking lot) was soon transformed by the addition of seemingly tons of rich black dirt and worms; the fishin’ kind.  I thought that was interesting because if you had asked me what the makings of a good garden were, I’m sure I woulda’ told you Potting Soil.  Who knew that a garden could be started in plain ol’ ordinary dirt?  Hmph!  Go figure.

     Anyway, I watched as my good hubby-buddy magically changed the lay of the land from ugly black asphalt to beautiful green and luscious plant life; of course, leaving everyone else’s parking areas alone.  But he wasn’t done, yet.  Nope!  As time marched forward, he tended that beautiful garden and treated it like one might treat a beloved pet.  No weed was allowed to linger and people from all those businesses; especially, little old ladies from the beauty shop, often stopped by to admire the yield.  Usually, that meant they also went away with bags full of veggies to take home.  Remember this, as I was somehow oblivious to what was going on, myself.

     Then one day, when it seemed to me that the garden had reached its full capacity, my good hubby-buddy got a wild-hair and suggested that we can summa’ the food from the garden.  Whoa!  I told you that he had a great imagination!  I could hardly wait to see how he was gonna’ put those lids on the cans.

     I waited and watched, but he never even looked at a can.  Nope; he decided to use jars, instead; Mason, Kerr… you’ve prob’ly even seen some.  Interesting.  I accepted his choice, as he seemed to know what he was doing.  When he was finished we had many jars, all lined up on our shelves in a variety of colors and sizes.  It made me feel very married and quite stable, actually.

     Now, here’s where the story takes a decided twist.  One day, about two months after the faux canning incident, I was minding my own business and being a happy little housewife.  Hubby-Buddy evidently felt the need to be funny and said the most ridiculous thing you can imagine.  “Let’s eat some of the food we canned.”
EAT IT?!?  EAT IT?!?  What… was he crazy?  That stuff was in the DIRT!
     Oh, yeah; I hear what you’re thinkin’.  “Where does Yaya think food comes from?”
     Surprisingly, I had even eaten summa’ those veggies, but that was different.  That was when they were fresh off the vine or stalk or whatever.  Once they were in the jars and he suggested eating them, it suddenly occurred to me that all that food had been in the dirt.  Dunno’ why I didn’t think of that, before.
     Well, I guess I had jus’ never thought of that, before.  Strangely enough, all the food I had ever seen, eaten or cooked either came from frozen packages, the produce aisle in the grocery store or cans… not jars.  The only exceptions were soda pop and cleaning supplies.  Now, here was the man I had sworn to spend my life with… my ENTIRE life… suggesting that I eat food from dirt.  What was he thinkin’?!?
     You’ll be happy to learn that after being educated to the true worth of dirt, and some persuasion from my good hubby-buddy, I did finally try the food we had canned… in jars.  It may just surprise you to learn that he was not the only person confused about the difference between cans and jars.  Apparently, there are thousands of people in the world who still can’t tell the difference.
     And I was amazed when I found out that, not only does food grow in dirt… sometimes, with worms, but it can be quite tasty.  I don’t know if you’ve ever considered eating food that was grown in dirt, but if you haven’t I surely hope you will ignore that inner voice of distaste and try it.  I think you’ll like it.
     Until the next time, keep a hug on.
 ~ Yaya
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21 thoughts on “You Want Me To WHAT?!?

  1. Thank you, Andrea. I still marvel at what a great gardener he is.Tisha, don't you go givin' him such ideas. We found out a long time ago that if we want our garden to survive, we do not threaten it with havin' me tend it.Thanks, Stephanie. I kinda' enjoyed tellin' it, too. ~ Yaya

  2. Hi Bev. You like my chicken? He and his brother had many dangerous adventures. I'll be tellin' more of 'em before long. I have learned that you're right 'bout the veggies; home grown is definitely best. Who knew? ~ Yaya

  3. LOL…you made me think of the cajuns that had an apartment across from us in college. Anthony set traps/hunted in the empty lot next to our apartment complex.There's nothing like FRESH veg! I'm glad you learned to like it. ๐Ÿ™‚

  4. Haha, Yaya, I always go away from your blog chuckling; and that's saying something in this hurried world. You have an endless stream of stories for books for the young, don't you? Every summer we grow vegetables (the Indian variety that aren't available in regular grocery stores) in our backyard and they definitely taste better than the same variety bought from the store. Guess it's from all the love we pour into them while they're growing. ๐Ÿ™‚

  5. Sharon, we used to have a next-door neighbor in downtown San Diego who raised rabbits and a big garden. I don't recall them ever going to the store for anything. I think they even had a goat for milking. That was the first year I was married. I learned a lot that year; most of it good. ~ Yaya

  6. Hema, you have nooooooo idea. I've lived a lotta', lotta' life in my three years on this earth. 'Course, you do know that I'm now three years old, right?I think I haven't even skimmed off the top layer, yet. Why, I'm just gettin' started.I believe I agree with you about the love. My good hubby-buddy treats those plants like some people oughta' treat their loved ones and I haven't seen the plant… or animal, for that matter… that doesn't respond well to that love. He's a keeper, alright. And I do love those homegrown fruits and veggies. ~ Yaya

  7. I still haven't learned how to can foods, but once I was successful at freezing a bunch of asparagus. That made me feel very accomplished, indeed. And boy, were they tasty! ~ Yaya

  8. This post has me giggling. Eat food grown in dirt? Who'd a thunk? We live on a farm, so we just finished canning tomatoes. Thrilling, ugh.I would like to shake your hubby's hand. He had nothing to work with and made you into a believer. He deserves a dinner out. Now you know where food comes from, girl. =) Nice lesson.

  9. Hi Susan. Yes, you jus' never know what you're gonna' be expected to do in this life, but I stepped up to the plate and did my part, didn't I? Dirt food; go figure. ~ Yaya

  10. Writing… you're talkin' 'bout one of my faves, actually; a BLT without the L. mmmmmmm. But no one had ever told me that dirt was involved. *sigh* Gone are those childhood fantasies of tomatoes growing in produce bins. LOL ~ Yaya

  11. Hi Robyn. I agree; he does deserve a dinner out, but first, I need to find a patch of dirt so's I can get him the good stuff, right?The only thing I have ever helped can was dry beans, but I am determined to be involved in at least one proper canning project in my life… someday. *grin* ~ Yaya

  12. You're so funny! My Mama and Daddy were forever sitting outside snapping beans and peeling apples and reminiscing…I always said to them "WHAT! Can't we afford groceries?" and "Come in for heavensake, IT'S HOT!" and "there are Suzy Qs on top of the fridge if you're hungry :)" (but there weren't…I ate them all)

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