As I told you when we first met, the main motivation for my urban farming came from pulp. As in, juice pulp that I was throwing away every day after pressing carrots, apples, greens, ginger, lemons and more through the chute of my juice fountain machine.
I threw the pulp into the garbage. I went to the garden store to buy bags of compost to spread across my garden. And then a little light bulb went off in my head. I decided to bypass the garbage and the garden store by turning the pulp into compost. Through worms. And chickens. And rotating bins.
Meanwhile, an even more Captain Obvious revelation was on it’s way.
During my weekly grocery store trips, I’d cruise through the produce department and gather a bag of apples. My motto? Buy the cheapest bag of organic apples available and juice away.
Until one morning when I found myself rinsing said apples while absentmindedly staring out the kitchen window. And I had a major realization. That’s an apple tree out there. In my yard. With apples on it.
I mean, I’m out in the yard every day. I knew there was an apple tree. The fruit falls onto the ground all the time. But this was honestly the first time I actually thought about using it. I felt a bit like an idiot.
And then it became a free for all. When the lower branches were cleared of the fruit, I went higher to pick (and by “I,” I mean Jay, who got a ladder and climbed higher to pick).
We piled the apples into a basket, retrieving far more than necessary, just because we could. And these green globes of beauty became the cheapest bag of organic apples available.
And as this growing season winds down, I also made a big-picture decision. Unless it produces food for myself or my animals, I’m not planting it. I don’t look at that as a restriction, but as an opportunity. So when my local farm store was clearancing out their cherry trees a couple of weeks ago, I bought one.
Jay and I planted it in the front yard, knowing it too will soon produce something on this little plot of land in the city. And this time it won’t take so long for me to get picking.