THE NEW DOMESTICITY
the
NEW DOMESTICITY
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By Julianna Lawson
It was a day that seemed to belong to another era.
I walked the neighborhood wetlands loop as I often do, but this day I viewed it as though it was 1950. Back then the land was mostly covered by a lake; but the moss-covered, decaying fence posts suggest that it was also farm land. The numerous apple, cherry, and hazelnut trees still bordering the loop speak wistfully of an orchard that once was. Later that day, a bright blue, cloud-embellished sky formed a picturesque backdrop for the laundry hanging on the line. An early spring breeze danced mischievously among the linens. The weather was warm enough to invite nature to slowly dry the sheets, yet brisk enough for the same blue backdrop to showcase a lazy trail of smoke issuing from the farmhouse chimney. Although I was simply driving by the home, I felt in that moment as though I had again been swept back in time. All was slow: the sky seemed bluer, the clouds whiter, the sun-kissed sheets cleaner, the wood stove-heated home warmer. I had been on the property before. Often as a child, we visited the farm to gather a delicious harvest of Italian prunes, peaches and hazelnuts. This naturally adds a nostalgia of its own. But an even sweeter association was formed when I visited with the owner just a few years ago. I had come hoping to again find fruit, but the land had since been devoted mostly to hazelnut trees. So she eagerly shared with me of the farm’s German roots (literally), of the similar soils that welcome hazelnut trees to
flourish in both lands, and of the marriage between a soldier and his bride that gave birth to a beloved neighborhood farm. Indeed, many of the older homes in Clark County might tell similar stories. Clothes lines still stand like sentinels in many sprawling backyards (certainly they were “sprawling” to the children who lived there once upon a time), and if the gnarled fruit and nut trees could talk, they would tell of the many homes blessed by their bounty. Garden boxes, too, seem eager to relive their glory days when the soil was tilled and tended until fresh shoots sprang from the earth to provide for the family gathered around the table. I can attest to the sweetness of the bounty that passed from farm to family in my Vancouver childhood. Figs, plums, apples, cherries, pears, walnuts and hazelnuts fell benevolently from neighbors’ trees, while the many family gardens overflowed with zucchini (always zucchini), tomatoes (I can just smell them warming in the sun now) and the most succulent berries a child could hope to snack on: blueberries and raspberries and strawberries, oh, my! Thankfully, we live in a time when families seem to crave just that: time. One delicious way to reclaim time, to even reclaim a bit of our history, just might be to turn back to the land. Allison Gaspar of Vancouver shares, “We love the satisfaction of placing produce on the table that we planted, nurtured, and harvested ourselves. There is something incredibly satisfying about roasting vegetables or making a salad using mostly produce from your own garden, or picking a large bowl of perfectly ripe blueberries for breakfast right from your own backyard!” Likewise, Kristalee Sorensen, also of Vancouver, delights in sharing her love of gardening with her young family. “I love being outside in nature, getting fresh air. I love preparing the ground, mapping out where I want continued on next page
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Vancouver Family Magazine • www.vancouverfamilymagazine.com • April 2018