Gardens on the Rise

Gardens on the Rise

It’s official. More Americans than ever are finding out what many of us have known all along. Growing a garden is a great way to cut your grocery bill and provide your family with high quality food, picked at the peak of freshness.

According to the National Gardening Association, there was a 19 percent increase in home gardening in 2009. Those are the most recent figures available but the trend appears to have momentum.

I placed an order back in the summer for Roma Beans from Baker Seeds, a company who provides heirloom seeds, and just received them two days ago. Of course, it’s too late for me to plant this year but I ended up with enough seeds and plenty of green beans.  Why so late? The note inside the package said they apologized for the inconvenience, but had been inundated with orders.  

That’s good news.

Two summers ago, I searched for quart jars in a ten mile radius and was finally forced to beg and borrow from friends and family. Never before had this happened in my many years of canning. There were always jars to be had somewhere. That taught me a lesson and I stock up on jars, even if it’s the end of the season. I don’t want to be caught without the means to put up good food.

It’s exciting to think more people are gardening. After all, unless you live in an apartment or condo, nearly all of us have a small square of fertile soil to do something with, even for a tomato plant or two. 

I started twelve years ago as a way to get back in touch with my agrarian roots. I discovered not only a connection to my ancestors’ habits of growing and preserving food, but an amazing difference in taste.  By going organic, I also knew it was healthy.  Not to mention the soul healing days of working with my hands in dirt under the sunshine.

But before I wax on about the benefits of gardening, let me be honest.  I have a love/hate relationship with my garden, depending on the time of year.  Last fall, my husband made an ill-timed remark about growing a bigger garden next year and I cast an evil eye on him the likes of which he has never seen.  This was after months of a daily routine that went something like this: Pick, clean, prepare, sterilize, fill, salt, seal, cook, cool, label.  

I am worn out with it by October, but a miraculous rejuvenation takes place over the winter. While the land is resting in winter’s sleep, so is the gardener in me. By the time April rolls around, my evil eye has softened. The grass is green, birds are singing, and I’m dreaming of vegetables.  I don’t know what I might grow next year, but one thing is for sure. I’ll put my seed order in early.