Growing food closer to home

Our food supple chain is breaking down because of the ongoing pressure of covid-19. Before the coronavirus we bought strawberries from California or from Mexico and thought nothing of it. Now, I see those berries with a new and growing appreciation of the complex delivery system that put those berries on my table.

It is mid May and the berries shown have been available since late April in a specialty grocery store in my neighbourhood. What is unique about these berries? Note where these berries are grown: Canada. These are locally grown, greenhouse berries. Despite the snow on the ground, there are locally grown berries on the store shelves.

When I was a boy strawberries were available for about three, maybe four, weeks in late spring. And that was it. When those weeks were gone, strawberries were gone. Not so today. There are now varieties of strawberries called ever-bearing that produce three or more crops annually.  Locally grown field berries are now available from late spring until very early fall.

Thanks to hothouse berries, the growing season is expanding again. Soon, it should be possible to eat locally grown strawberries from April through to early November. And if folk can be persuaded to eat frozen berries at other times, imported fresh berries may become a fading memory or a very expensive, hard-to-find treat.

Mother's Day Meant Too Close for Comfort

It was Mother's Day but getting gifts for mom and grandma was tough. With the gardening centre closed, the two little girls had to settle for gift cards. A bit impersonal but it was the best they could do.

Kisses and hugs for grandma were out. Masks were in. Just getting close enough to hand grandma an envelope seemed wrong. Social distancing demands 2 full metres.

The visit  didn't last long -- if you can call what occurred a visit. How we recover from the tension and the fear of our Covid-19 response is an open question. The self-isolation may end, but Grandma will still worry about the young girls and the girls will still worry about grandma. When will hugs return?

Another self-isolation dinner

Finding pictures is tough when one is self-isolating. The big moment of the day is often dinner. Since restaurants are off our menu, unless we want take out, my wife let's me play "Is this restaurant fare?"

I try my best but the dinners are rarely great. I grumble a lot about my failures. She tells me to lighten up; I'm too harsh a critic of my cooking, she says. Well tonight, thanks to a New York Times recipe, I hit the jackpot. Dinner tonight was restaurant fare. Now, my wife is telling me to stop gloating. She's never happy. Well, not quite true, she was happy with my oh-so-fine dinner and I'm gloating again.

A truly compact car spotted on the court today

A truly compact car was spotted on the court today. It was bright and warm and not weather than encouraged a family to stay indoors or at the least remain on their property. This little boy jumped in his little electric car and, with dad watching from the sidelines, he headed off for some laps on the court.

Rabbits are picky eaters; who'd have thought.

My wife has some flowers blooming in her garden. What a wonderful surprise. Nothing kept the rabbits away from the tulips but apparently primula doesn't need protection from the little furry cuties. Rabbits, we have learned, are not attracted to primula. What a delightful surprise.

Photo of German Cars Recalls French Flag. Oops!

It was time for the winter tires to be switched for the the warm weather rubber. But, because of covid-19, it had to be put off until the first of May.

Today was the day. I drove down to the dealer and found the door closed, locked. A note on the door. Knock, it said.

My service advisor came to the door, I backed up and he came out, arm out-stretched. I tossed him my keys and he took them, told me to come back in an hour and turned and walked away. No customers allowed inside.

I killed the hour looking at cars, new cars, used cars, VWs and Audis. The Audi R8 convertible at $254,000 looked nice but a bit too much car for me. I'd feel guilty behind the wheel. I'd also feel tinges of guilt when I stiffed VW for the car payments.

When the hour was up, I picked up my aging Jetta. Its black paint sparkled. The service department washes every car passing through. I'm not sure everyone can see it but when I look at that car I see a pleasing patina of affordability and I like that look.

A road not taken

 

There's a famous poem by Robert Frost, The Road Not Taken. It starts "Two roads diverged . . . "

There's a bend in Hyde Park Road where, if one pays attention, there is the hint of long forgotten "Y".

Go right, through the curb cut and almost immediately encounter a couple of posts with a length of chain suspended between them

This the Hyde Park Road not taken, and for good reason. This is the old, closed, former Hyde Park Road. It was once a rather attractive stretch of highway. No more. Today, even Robert Frost would likely decide to stay on the well-traveled path.