Inorganic gardening: What’s the difference?

In fact, they don’t even have to sit down with me. If they so desire, they could explain the difference to me while standing up with me. Or hanging upside down with me (them hanging and me sitting or standing, and don’t harangue me with grammar on this one).

Differences are important. If things and people were not different, they would all be the same. And that could become monotonous and boring. As the French say, vive la différence!

So, how is a farm different from a garden? I am no expert, but my guess is that it is a matter of size. A garden is smaller than a farm, you would think. Nobody ever says, “I have a kitchen farm.” It’s always a kitchen garden. And I have never heard of anybody growing wheat in a garden. It’s always on a farm.

So far, so good.

But how about if I had a large garden, a really, really large garden, and you had a teeny-tiny farm? At what point would the twain meet? Or would they never meet? And, by the way, who decides these things? And by whose authority?

Imagine trying to set parameters for this. “Let’s see. Anything under 0.25 acres shall henceforth be called a garden, and over that, a farm. All right then, it’s settled. Let me issue an edict to that effect.”

Consider the ruffled feathers it could cause.

“Hey, Billy Bob, can you believe it? That young whipper-snapper of a government bean-counter downgraded my farm to a garden, just because I have 0.24999 acres. I’m gonna lose out on billions in farm subsidies from Washington. Ask Mary Lou to bring me my shotgun. I’ll teach that so-and-so the facts of life.”

Similar issues arise about calling something organic. At least in my mind. I don’t know about you, but I believe that if something is organic, it must be because it is different from something else, which, logically, must be inorganic.

These problems are not new. I remember wondering about this in high school. We had organic chemistry as well as inorganic chemistry to deal with. I spent many a night agonizing over their unique qualities. They made us memorize stuff about living matter, carbon, carbon-hydrogen bonds and the like.

Well, diamond is pure carbon, and nobody ever accused it of being organic.

I was curious about what Robert Boyle thought about this, and whether he had caused these divisions in the field of chemistry. You know about Robert Boyle, don’t you? He is widely acknowledged as the father of chemistry and the son of the Earl of Cork.

I asked my teachers to shed light on these matters, and they promptly sent me to the principal’s office.

Which brings us to organic farming. It has multiple definitions, and also certifying requirements. Its health and environmental benefits are widely touted. And as a responsible and progressive physician, I believe that spiel.

My problem here is more basic — that of recognition. Say an apple hit you on the head. Would you be able to tell if it was just a regular old apple or an organic one? You could consider asking Robert Boyle, but he’s been dead a while.

I would recommend picking up the apple and looking at the price sticker. If it shows a dollar amount in double figures, it’s organic. Anything in single figures, it is fit only to be fed to your mother-in-law.