Come and have a bite to eat from my garden. This is where it all begins. This is where it all goes down. Sure, it’s fun and relaxing to enjoy the sunny lightheartedness of a dinner on the patio, but this is serious business as well. One of the deepest spiritual moments of my life was eating food grown from my own garden for the first time. When the ingredients of a meal grow just a few feet from where I serve them, eating them means participating in a sacred circle. Or something. How can I explain the feeling of absolute rightness? It seems so simple. I grow something. I cook it. I eat it. All in one place. I am the snake and this is my garden. Getting cast out of Eden is for losers. I can stay here as long as I like. I can partake of all the fruits, because this my place, this is where I belong. Come in. Have a bite.

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