Sunday, 30 August 2009

I forage therefore I am

A very weird thing about my bf (imho) is that he doesn't forage. At all. For someone skint living on a boat this strikes me as very very odd. He was born awfully premature so maybe it's something to do with that...;-)

He was trying today, I think, to persuade me that instead of gardening or foraging, I should be doing more important things. I think his idea was that once I'd done the more important things (and this looked like it was going to take months, I might add, not days), then I could go back to foraging and gardening.

He clearly doesn't understand that I couldn't do that. For me, the meaning of life is somewhere in gardening, collecting food & fuel, making friends and pootling about. I can handle fitting it around other stuff (like going to work, sorting out the house and doing my finances), but I can't not do it. Apart from anything else, it's very seasonal. I either forage for elderberries in the next couple of weeks, or I don't do it at all. If I neglect my tomatos today, tomorrow they will be a blight ridden slushy mass. In fact tomorrow I have to make green tomato chutney before the blight gets them and rack my elderflower wine before it tastes bad. Apart from anything else, I tend to feel that it makes sense to garden/forage/do outdoor things when the sun shines. There will be plenty of time for doing indoor things in the coming months.

Talking of which, he is right about some things- I really ought to sort out having the chimney lined and installing my multifuel stove before the winter...;-)

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