At my house, there is no such plan. We plant randomly, but with fervor. There are few successes, and more than a few bare spots where things refuse to survive. I don’t take it personally, I just plant something else in its place. Garden books are voraciously read through the winter months, but when spring comes, all knowledge and carefully made plans are obliterated at the first sight of a perennial sale.

We are going to have a real garden in the new rental house, no matter what. Enlisting the frenetic planting skills of a seven-year old boy, we got started at the first sight of a seed sale. My son doesn’t think that the planting directions are really important. He just wants to put the seeds in the ground and see what happens next. The single soybean that came home from school in a tiny bit of dirt is proudly growing in a beautiful blue pot next to the front door. We just want to see what happens next.

Along with the ever-extending line of terracotta pots filled with tomato plants, basil, pepper plants and cantaloupes, is the row of egg cartons filled hopefully with watermelon seeds, more cantaloupes, chives, carrots and purple basil. Only my son knows which one is which. He just wants to see them grow. I hesitate to tell him that the carrots might not make it – they are all carefully clustered into a very small pot. Small seeds, small pot. He has it figured out. Each afternoon, he tours his domain and shouts at anything new that is sprouting. The line of morning glory seeds along the front of the house is a bit disheveled, but the pride he takes in knowing that he planted something that is growing, is outstanding.

My daughter approaches planting methodically. Plant only a few things, but make sure that they are in the right sunlight, the right amount of shade. She actually reads the directions on the seed packages to decide where to grow her crop. This year, we are determined to attract butterflies and ladybugs. The hand-painted ladybug house is now surrounded by sweet pea seedlings and a row of sunflowers. Plants are carefully selected, based on their butterfly appeal. Someone in the neighborhood might object to the fact that they are growing in the small space between the sidewalk and the street, but our theory is that it looks better now than it did before. My daughter’s planting program is all about making things look beautiful. The strawberry pots that hang from the front porch are hers too. As the berries ripen one at a time, the hope still exists that there will be a big enough crop to share for breakfast.

I love the fact that my children understand the importance of growing things – sometimes, just for the sake of growing them. It is a rare year that our garden’s bounty is ample enough to keep us sustained through the summer, but we keep trying. The kids understand that the Saturday morning trips to the farmer’s markets are more than just an opportunity to say hello to every single dog at the market. They are starting to notice that there are always different fruits and vegetables for sale. They are inclined to take a risk and try vegetables that they would have otherwise rejected, simply because the farmer took the time to explain their wares to two curious minds. Beets have been offered, prepared and consumed. The farmer told them that they were sweet and delicious and he knows FAR more than mom or dad does. We had a small setback when the sweet peppers must have gotten crossed with the spicy ones. That particular booth is now given a wide berth, but they will be trusted again, especially when strawberry season starts. One night at dinner, one of my beloved offspring announced that he only likes apples from the farm market, because they taste better than the ones from the grocery store. Outstanding. A small victory for local produce.

It is never easy to get my children to eat different vegetables, but I find that they need to have some input about what should be served. For St. Patrick’s Day, I took them to the store and offered to make a dinner that was completely green – whatever they wanted, but it had to be naturally green, no food coloring. Thirteen green vegetables and herbs were gathered for the feast. And the feast was prepared by the enthusiastic guests. And devoured. The best meal, ever.

image via Flickr

When asked about planting, and what it means to them, I was surprised and optimistic about the responses from the kids. It is fun to watch things grow. I feel as if I am doing something important for the environment. We love to compost all year round so that we can make great soil for the gardens. Knowing how to grow things will help farmers stay in business. We like to make the gardens look beautiful and love to eat what we have grown in the garden. We like to go outdoors and pick herbs to use for dinner. The food that we grow tastes better – how can we grow more? What else can we grow?

Local foods taste better. The opportunity to work with local growers, local producers and farmers at Nourish at the IMA has opened up a whole new world for me, personally and professionally. There are so many wonderful and unexpected ingredients that are being produced within a 150 mile radius. Our menus change often, so that we can offer the freshest and best ingredients at their absolute peak. I have been stalking the vendors at the weekend farmers’ markets to see which products we can showcase at Nourish. It has certainly been a learning experience, but one that I enjoy sharing with my children.

They are listening, and they are hearing what I am trying to explain to them, but more importantly, they are discovering it for themselves. And the lesson that they discover is more powerful than the one I try to enforce.

Alice with students at Cold Spring School

What does it mean to say, “I live in Indiana”?  What is distinctive about that, as opposed to saying, “I live in Colorado,” or, “I live in Florida”?  These questions came to my mind as I listened to chef, author and food revolutionary Alice Waters speak at The Toby on December 2 as part of the IMA’s Planet Indy series. Alice was describing the simple delights of eating local, seasonal food, as well as the simple genius of rebuilding local economies around sustainable practices. In Alice’s economy, producers of organic vegetables, fruits, dairy items and meats know that their products will supply local markets and restaurants instead of being shipped across the country. Organic producers make a decent living; their neighbors enjoy fresh, high quality food and improved health.

Alice’s revolution is aesthetic as well as economic. She advocates beautiful experiences with the food we enjoy. She believes that children deserve to learn how to notice tastes and scents, and to develop the language skills to describe these and their thoughts about such sensations. During Alice’s visit we discussed the Human Capabilities initiative of philosopher Martha Nussbaum and Nobel Laureate economist Amartya Sen. They argue that a humane society has a responsibility to give its citizens the opportunity to develop such capabilities as understanding how to care for their bodies, how to give and receive love, and how to communicate effectively. I have sense that Alice, Martha and Amartya are on the same wavelength.

Hmmm…. I started to feel that my own residence in Indiana is a bit superficial, and not all that aesthetically appealing, either. I have an address in Indianapolis, but an inventory of my refrigerator and cupboards wouldn’t necessarily confirm that statement. Veggies from California, bottled water from New York.  If I had amnesia and went to my kitchen in search of clues about my own life, there would be little evidence to help me deduce my location. And if you asked me to name a good, local, organic poultry producer, I’d be stumped. I spend most of my days in Indiana, but I have no meaningful relationship with the farmers or cheese makers in my area who are working to produce quality food.

Nearly a year ago as the IMA staff began planning for Alice’s visit, we initiated a series of meetings with organic producers, chefs and culinary arts instructors, school lunch decision-makers, and environmental educators. It was amazing to see the groundswell of enthusiasm and the number of committed people who wanted to help bring Alice’s message to a wider public. IMA educators initiated a partnership with Cold Spring School, IPS’s environmental magnet and a neighbor to the Museum, to introduce some of the ideas in Alice’s Edible Schoolyard initiative. At Cold Spring I saw children learn where tomatoes come from and how different a local, vine ripened tomato tastes from a cellophane-wrapped import purchased at the grocery store.

In 1971, American meditation teacher Ram Dass wrote a book called Remember, Be Here Now. I’ve always loved that line: Be Here Now. I know that my distracted attention wanders all over the place and is often anywhere but here in this moment. I think that if you added up all the moments in my life when I have really been consciously present – in my body, in the instant – the sum total of those moments of fully-lived experience would be pretty small.

Alice isn’t teaching meditation, but she is advocating that life be lived more fully and with greater consciousness. She is urging us to help our children discover that a fuller life is their birthright. Live here now.