He participated in a farm-to-table event downtown this past weekend, and I tagged along to "cover" it; as if this blog counts as real journalism. Although, I suppose one day it might qualify as such, so perhaps I shouldn't be so cynical.
So yeah - I strapped on my
By the end of the day, I had glue in my hair, a brown stain on my shirt from separating the pots, and had said the sentence "The lemon basil is great for making strawberry basil lemonade" about 73 times.
During this time, I also determined that while full-time teaching might not be my preferred career, it sure is fun to talk to kids about food for a few hours. At one point, a girl who looked to be about twelve pointed to our fresh pasta display (pasta being fed through a roller to make fettuccine) and asked what it was - she'd never seen how pasta was made before. The same girl later couldn't decide between the cinnamon basil or the lemon basil. Her dad looked completely annoyed and urged her to just pick one so they could be on their way.
I have visions that she will nurse those two seedlings, watching them grow into large, beautiful bushes on her balcony, while the taxis and bikes and people rush by below her.
She will water them and fertilize them and transplant them when their roots find the walls of their world and ask for just a little more space.
One day, she may even become a famous botanist who eventually cures cancer and dandruff with a unique blend of herbal extracts and tree bark.
And it will all be because I gave her cinnamon and lemon basil.