Fantasizing About Life in the States

Every once in a while, I get sidetracked by what life will be like once we leave Japan. Don't get me wrong, we love it here (other than Michael's work schedule, but that is a different post). Life is wonderful and comfortable. Tokyo is a clean, safe city that is easy to live in. We have made great friends. Anyway, you get the picture. But we know we won't be here forever - so I sometimes indulge in imagining the future elsewhere.

Lately, I have been thinking about our food choices, and fantasizing about a big garden. I just started reading the book Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver, which totally sparked my garden interest. (I just started the book, and am really enjoying it. I would love to give a ringing endorsement, but that will have to wait until I have actually finished reading it.)

image from Amazon.com

The interest in growing food is not unprecedented. Michael and I had a small balcony garden in Chicago. We grew tomatoes, herbs and flowers (along with attempted collards, peppers, etc). I even got plants here in Tokyo.

BIG DISASTER.

(Sorry, Mama. The Cyclamen is totally dead. It was my fault. I'm not so good at watering the deck plants - which I'm sure you already figured out.)

We used to be great about buying whole foods from the farmers market, cooking a lot at home, and always always reading labels.

There are several things about Japan that make eating this way difficult:

Whole foods from farmers markets are definitely available. Frankly, we are just too lazy to get ourselves to the market early on Saturday morning.

With the work schedule the way it is, cooking at home is pretty much non-existent. Sometimes we cook on the weekends, but most of the time we are so exhausted from the week that it is a relief to just go out.

And label-reading. HA - that is just a joke. I can barely give the taxi-driver directions to my house in Japanese.

Forget about reading labels.

Long story short - I have lapsed into the romantic notion that in the States we will feed ourselves from a big, lush garden. It won't matter that I'm "not so good" at remembering things like watering the plants, and Michael is available for weekend gardening, at most. Never mind that we don't exactly have a plot of land on which to plant said garden. Never mind that the eco-friendly compost pile that will help me naturally fertilize my garden is sure to attract all sorts of varmints back in Chicago. I don't think about those things.

We will coax our food from the ground. We will nurture the Earth and our bodies. It is a beautiful fantasy.