Real Costs

Okay, my day today was not so perfect.

I started out by getting up on the wrong side of the bed after inadequate sleep, putting me at an attitude disadvantage right from the start. The dogs were raring to go until I opened the door to pouring rain, at which all three of them did abrupt turnabouts, not even venturing off the porch.

After a cup of coffee, I dashed to the car with Nicholai, leaving the girls at home, for a long drive to my new-found on-farm store for fresh raw milk, yogurt, eggs, kombucha tea and perhaps some chicken. Happily, two friends wished to purchase some of this delightful fresh food, making the trip a tad more ecological and economical. The rain poured so that my wipers on their fastest speed could barely keep up. Visibility was fair to poor and the roads were perfect for hydroplaning, illustrating one of the downsides of direct farm purchasing – rain or shine, you have to get there.

When I arrived, preparations were ongoing for a cheese-making class. I would very much like to take the class some day, but today it meant a crowded store, difficulty accessing the freezer, and no yogurtL. When I could get a moment with the owner, she said that with recent cold and wet weather, the cows had not been producing as much milk and with the cheese classes, there'd been no time to make yogurt. There I was, tired and crabby, wet, having driven for an hour, and not able to get what I wanted. I felt like having a temper tantrum.

I realized sadly how far removed I have become from the rhythms of nature. Twenty-four hour supermarkets with produce and products flown and trucked from around the world have led me to believe that I should get whatever I want whenever I want it. Asparagus in January? No problem? Bananas and oranges for Christmas? You betcha. Boneless, skinless chicken breasts any day of the week any week of the year? For me, anything. I have become accustomed to this kind of access and though I have become educated to the hidden costs – which are many and daunting and include the gulf oil spill – I am still habituated to easy access to a wide variety of products without having to accept the full cost.

After a few quiet moments on the store's front porch in the rain, I dealt with my disappointment and made my peace with the situation. I could purchase beautiful milk, eggs, and tea. Perhaps this week, I could make my own yogurt.

I delivered farm-fresh food to both friends; letting myself in to one house, petting the dogs, and packing goodies in the fridge. I met my other friend (in PJ's and robe) in the driveway, where we discussed the politics of food over a box of milk and eggs, and I felt the threads of community growing stronger.

Bumped by minor difficulties, but still undaunted, I plan to continue seeking food directly from local farmers. I realize now that I will have to plan better, cooperate with others more, and flex my desires with changes in season, weather, fuel cost, and community-wide needs. Is this so much to ask? After all, when it comes down to it, it's not just BP's fault, or predatory corporations in general's fault, or the government's fault about the disastrous oil spill. It's all of us. We want what we want when we want it, and we don't want to pay the cost. Well, guess what? The costs will be paid … one way or the other.

If we're gonna pay, Nicholai and I both vote for yummy farm fresh raw milk.