Florida Oranges?

My eyes open wide as the produce clerk in the grocery tells me they have no Florida oranges-only California.  Seriously?  but I'm in Florida!!  "You must have something?" I say.   "Well we do have some bagged oranges at the back on that small display. "  Tucked out of sight like the relatives you never want your spouse to meet are the Florida oranges so prized for the juice I buy back in Connecticut.   "This is crazy ," I think to myself.  In the few days I've been focusing on eating fresh, local and in season I've realized you can't trust even the food that should be a no-brainer.   Does everything I put in the grocery cart have a carbon footprint the size of Texas?  I grew up in the Garden State where summer meant almost daily trips to the red top or green top market and definite pick your own visits to Russo's farm for strawberries, blueberries, peaches- you name it.  The only footprints of my childhood were the barefoot ones left in the soft sand of the orchard roads or the dirt paths of the strawberry fields.  But today those pick your own trips are scheduled activities like playdates or museum field trips.  Something's gotta change starting with getting my hands dirty again to clean up my plate.  We cultivated a small garden last summer mostly to introduce my then 7 year old to the world of gardening-a task I now realize was substantially insufficient- almost a play acting at gardening instead of the real thing.  Time to get my brother up here with his John Deere and tear up a much bigger patch of the back yard.  Watch out Aldo, game on!