Country Mouse Monday: the (ex)changing of the chard
Sunday, June 17, 2012 at 08:57PM 
cauliflower, kale, chardTwo Saturdays ago, something significant happened. Well, OK, let me clarify: significant happened to me over here at my farmlet, something which probably didn't happen to most people, although I'm sure gardeners and farmers near and far have their rituals, their signs they watch for.
Two Saturdays ago, I stood a moment in the garden, head bowed over my harvest basket, and silently observed
the ceremonial changing of the chard.
I'd picked and filled the basket with the gorgeous cheddar cauliflower, the last of the kale, the chard, clearing big empty spaces in Box 2. By taking up those representatives of spring and cooler weather growing, now suffering from the rising temperatures, I was marking the end of one growing season and welcoming in the new.
Welcome, Summer. Been missing ya.
That full basket signalled: put away the cold things. Their time is done. Leave your sweater, at last, at home.
YES, how delightful. It's time for hot stuff now. Where the cauliflower was, now habaneros and jalapenos throw their solar panels to the sky. Where the kale lived, lots and lots of basil, enough for caprese now and pesto later.
Another way to welcome summer: the exchanging of the chard!
This past Saturday marked the seasonal change in another way, too: the Marin Open Garden Project kicked off for the summer, with exchanges at four locations in the county. I'd been hearing about this project since its inception, but had never made it out. Last year I tried to go once, but clearly got the day wrong -- I showed up with my basket but, um, nobody else did. Oops! And last year honestly it was a bit of a struggle to put together a basketful of trade-able items -- not such a great growing season we had in 2011, as I recall. Not like this year.
But this time I had the right date, the right location and a basket loaded with goodies.
In addition to literally hundreds of apricots, I had about six little baby-food jars of honey, a bunch of cinnamon basil (which we planted because it looked close enough to Thai basil that we thought it would taste like it. Wrong. That's why it's called Cinnamon Basil and not Thai basil, boo), some lemon verbena, and a stray gladiola that had broken and which I tossed into the basket at the last second, just to see what I could get in trade for it.
Because that's how I thought it would work. That I'd walk around from person to person, examine their wares, and propose a suitable trade. After all, I was heading into this Garden Exchange with aces, right -- jars of honey, after all. I thought, man, I better get great stuff for this.
But that's not how this works at all.
When I showed up, there were about 6 other people there already, with their produce laid out on a picnic table. They all knew each other, having participated in the Exchange in prior years. One couple had a ukelele and sheet music laid out on the table, too. It was all very relaxed, not at all as mercantile as I had imagined.
It was precisely the kind of thing that would've made me break out in figurative hives in earlier stages of my life -- going somewhere and having to explain myself to strangers for crying out loud, possibly having to hang out with strangers for some unspecified amount of time and make chit-chat. Horrors!
But really, I've come a long way in my life. Or maybe I've just gotten weirder, but part of me thinks I've just come full-circle.
The Garden Exchange, in a way, feels so familiar. Like I'm re-creating those long-ago summers of my childhood on Liberty Street, sharing everything with the neighbors, having one big public life because we lived on the same block. Within about a minute, I felt entirely at my ease with these people who'd been strangers only a moment before, answering questions about our bees, hearing about their gardens and seeing what they'd grown.
The Garden Exchange is awesome!
I thought I'd go, make some trades and be back in a few moments. But instead it was more fun to hang around for the entire hour that the Exchange is happening, to see who would come along next with a bag of goodies, what they'd add to the pile of deliciousness on the table. My goal was to trade everything I had brought with me. But really, it's more like giving. I gave away everything I had, and everyone else there did the same.
So, what, I know you're wondering, did I get?
I brought home, as you can see, lemons, a red onion, salad greens, yellow peppers, potatoes, and some lemon balm. And since I was passing through central San Rafael on my way home and super-excited to make lunch and other goodies with what I'd received at the Exchange, I stopped by Arizmendi Bakery and picked up that seedy baguette, focaccia, and grissini.
The changing of the chard in the garden had made me feel really happy and connected to what was happening around me, listening to the heat and responding in kind, changing out the cool crops for those that crave the sun. The exchanging of the chard made me feel happier still and connected to what's happening around me in a whole other way.
It was completely delightful to meet other gardeners, to hear their stories of what they've planted this year, their hopes for what they'll be eating and sharing soon. We passed so quickly from strangers to neighbors, crossing that boundary lightly but with our baskets filled with food we'd received in exchange for food we'd freely given. It was a tremendous feeling, one that kept me happy all day long and looking forward to the next opportunity to gather 'round a picnic table, hear a little ukelele, receive the bounty of other people's gardens.
Welcome, Summer! So glad you're here.
Next week on Country Mouse Monday: Heirloom Tomatoes and Other Lies
Reader Comments (2)
This new feature is off the chards! ♥
Thanks to Gayle and the rest of the regulars at the Sun Valley Exchange for creating an inviting atmosphere and providing a place to make sure no food goes to waste. Glad you enjoyed your first visit!