Dateline Boston — This summer, as I was being shown how to water the grass and plants at my new preschool, my director tore something off a stem and presented it to me. “Want a cucumber?” she asked. It didn’t resemble any cucumber I ever had seen. It was skinny, curled, bumpy at the end. I guess I had a look on my face because she gently offered it again, snapping it in half and offering me the piece that could actually pass for a vegetable. I smiled uneasily and took a bite. Whew, it tasted like a cucumber! We went around the garden and I tried to concentrate on what was being told to me about the hose.
We passed by the beds of greens the children had planted in the spring. My director and co-teacher oohed and ahhed. “Wow, they look great! Please harvest them, or else they’ll go bad.” Harvest? Was I supposed to do some gardening this summer? How does one harvest? I asked what they were, and I was told they were lettuce. It didn’t look like lettuce to me. I guess it could have passed as lettuce if I really thought about it. I had another look on my face, so Director said, “Try it!” Co-teacher told me not to pull it from the roots. Huh? I tore off a little piece and ate it. Ick. It was very bitter.
A Proper Reaction
Later, I recalled the cucumber and lettuce story to Husband. He was dumbfounded. He said, “You look disgusted.” I said, “I was. It was gross.” “Gross? It came from the ground! That’s where vegetables come from!” I jokingly told him that no, vegetables came from the outer perimeter of the grocery store. He said, “But someone picked those vegetables!” “And I appreciate those people very much,” I replied.
To say I don’t have a green thumb is putting it mildly. I use my thumbs to indicate approval or to hitch a ride, not for gardening. I have zero interest in growing my own food. The closest I’ll get is to go to a farmer’s market, which I do about twice a year, if I’m passing by and happen to have cash. I prefer to buy my fruits and vegetables from Whole Foods. That’s a step up from some stores, and a whole lot better than what I got when I was growing up, which was zippo.
I know it’s cool to have a plot in a community garden, or do a farm share and search for recipes when you don’t know what to do with a rutabaga. I’ve eaten food that has been home grown, and it’s delicious. I just have no desire to plant seeds and make them into something edible. I’m like the friends of the chicken who went around gathering wheat to make it into bread. Sure, I’ll eat the bread, but I’m not going to harvest anything, whatever that means. I’ve been asked, “Don’t you want to know where your food comes from?” Guess what? I don’t really care. As long as it’s fresh and doesn’t come with bugs, I’ll eat it. After washing it, of course. Vegetables are dirty.
Ms. Vaillancourt may be contacted at snobbyblog@gmail.com
