The other day, Steve went to the market near his office to buy a few apples. The apples, he reported with dismay, were all from Chile or New Zealand. Why, in New England, in September, would anyone go to the trouble of importing apples from so far away? When our local orchards are chock-full in this record-harvest year?
As we discussed this over breakfast, we worked ourselves into quite a self-righteous lather. We should all eat locally, whenever possible! So much better for the planet! And so much tastier!
And how much more local can you get than your own backyard? In fact, we have two apple trees in our little backyard, probably planted by the Victorians who built the place (or, perhaps more likely, by the groovy group home that installed itself here in the 60's). Mostly, these apple trees serve the function of crapping all over our garden: they are a major source of debris, shedding diseased leaves pretty much all season long, and providing a home for much-detested squirrels, who feast on the apples and then fling their half-eaten fruit on our heads.