Dark Days Eat Local Challenge

"What are you going to do when the DDELC is over," a friend recently asked.

"The same thing I'm doing before the DDELC is over?" I wasn't sure if it was a trick question.

"Oh," she said. "I thought maybe you would go back to normal."

I've been reflecting on that. Normal.

I keep carrots in an office file drawer at work and last night I was digging in my purse for a pen and found watermelon radishes instead.

There are greens in the fridge to feed the worms in the garage. Doing dishes includes plastic bags and the art of propping them up into crumpling clear villages on the counter to dry.

I secretly slip grocery bags into my purse that coworkers leave in the kitchen to use at home for garbage and recycling.

Shaggy bread dough bubbles on the kitchen counter, potatoes sprout in the bottom drawer. The batteries we kept in the freezer have been replaced by raspberries and applesauce.

Our pantry has become a shelter for wayward winter squash, art and orphans all of them, which I've been placing in foster homes since the fall.

I buy nettles from a lady with a hundred tattoos, walnuts from a woman wearing a hat in the likeness of a furry chicken. I buy citrus from a Grandma with pin curls.

While I miss the athletic blond cashier at the corner grocery, I now know the guy that grows roots and greens. I have a crush on the man with the apples and the cheese guy seduces me with his accent week after steamy week.

My favorite brands are Dirty Girl Produce, Happy Boy Farms.

And I no longer check labels for calories or sugar content but instead I get tips from the farmers. "Last of the crop," or a whispered, "Sweet," as I fill the bag higher.

I quit using shampoo after reading the Herbwife's Kitchen and Green Bean's blogs and instead rinse my curls with a rosemary tea I brew from garden trimmings.

All of which seems quite natural. I've concluded this is as close to normal as I'll likely get, challenge or not.