by Sandy Swegel
I’m on the 6 a.m., red-eye flight from New Orleans and all I can say after a week in this great party town in that I miss my garden. Sure, fried shrimp and stuffed crabs are great but after a week of culinary excess, I’m yearning for the crisp still frozen Swiss chard that I’ve harvested all winter underneath piles of leaves. In big cities, you still get a lot of that pale white iceberg lettuce.
The other thing I missed in this big city are front yard gardens. All those small urban front yard lawns are begging to be turned from turf to nice raised beds. Perfectly groomed shrubs are not nearly as pretty to this gardener as sprawling squash vines or trellises of peas would be. The best I could do was slip some herbs between the roses and azaleas in my mom’s tiny condo garden.
So I salute, today, all of you who are growing your own food in cities or in neighborhoods controlled by HOAs that abhor anything untraditional. I live in the fantasy land of Boulder where it’s trendy to grow your own food. I have a new respect for you who garden in the city or where you’re the only gardener on the block. And I’ve envied your fresh greens all week!