The first year that I grew my own food I pretty much had no idea what I was doing. There were cauliflowers the size of cherry tomatoes, lettuce greens adequate for a family of eight (ours is two) and 1/4 inch carrots because I saw thinning as killing. The one thing I did know at the end of that growing season, we saved money on produce and I was determined to assess just how much.
How does one assign a value to the food you grow, well with a dusty old produce scale of course. The December following my first growing season I was armed with an authentic 1920 John Chatillon scale from New York City. My mother was horrified, having been part of the procurement of this gift in cahoots with my husband. She knew it wouldn't fit the decor of my home, but didn't want to question his choice in a present. After the holiday passed, she asked "Where will you hang the scale?" I hadn't fully thought it through, but "Somewhere in the garden makes the most sense." Well once you've invested in an antique Chatillon you can't just leave it out in the elements. So I designed the perfect home for my scale, which would become my beloved potting shed.
A labor of love over the years by many friends and family members, the shed is affectionately referenced by my neighbors at the country store. Most wonder where the chickens are because they were convinced we were building a coop by the shape. The door is from a 1934 farmhouse and has a dimension that changes with the weather. The stained glass window took 11 hours to refinish coming from a local architectural salvage warehouse. The center ceiling panels are transparent for seed starts in the spring. The doorknob cost more than the lumber and the front stone step landed there via toboggan. I have big plans for a rainwater collection system feeding a sink made out of an antique maple syrup strainer to be installed on an 8' piece of barn board. Coming in 2015!
There is something about walking through that garden gate that transforms me. Seeing how the plants have grown overnight is spectacular. Kale is trustworthy and never disappoints; it is always dependable for a harvest. Carrots are surprising, never knowing which color you will pull and how big the root will be. Pole beans even have a sense of humor in the way they wind their vines in every direction except the one I had intended when I supported them.
So what have I learned after years of growing my own food and enhancing my garden oasis? That I don't care about money when I am working with the land. When I put my hands in the dirt, everything else sinks away. I have no idea how much money we save growing our own food because I am sure I have spent all that savings on the adornments needed to house my dusty old produce scale. I love that scale and I still weigh everything I grow, but really only to share harvest yields with my mother. What I do know is that it is extremely therapeutic to grow and prepare food you have tended to yourself. It truly nourishes the soul. I got my hands in the dirt for the first time this year just yesterday. Tiny little bright green chives were poking through last years debris looking for the sun. Just those few moments clearing the space for them to thrive made me dance around the lawn ~ spring is finally here!