In the early days of COVID-19 stay at home orders, I tended my garden with extra care and dipped into my stocks of frozen self-caught fish and seafood but I was far from self-sufficient; I confess that Amazon became a lifeline. I could buy everything from hand sanitizer and toilet paper to olives and yeast there, but I didn’t feel good about it. Haven’t I pleaded with people not to buy books from Amazon because their pricing maximizes their profits at the sacrifice of author income? How many other artisans and small businesses are being similarly undermined to feed the beast?

And as if that weren’t enough, I became aware of Amazon’s shifting price points. Amazon knows when you’ve bought a giant bag of dog treats for $11 a few times, so be wary of that “buy again” button because as I discovered, the price may suddenly jump to $23 without warning. Though not to worry, it likely still costs $11 for someone else being baited in. It’s a rigged system, and not in consumer favor. It was time to rid myself of those stacks of smiling boxes.

It was a challenge initially. How could small and local businesses compete with corporations backed by larger bank accounts and pre-existing infrastructure? And yet as COVID forced large plants and warehouses to close, and distribution chains to falter, there were suddenly openings that smaller, more localized businesses could fill. My husband bought shrimp and fresh oysters direct from the fisheries. I discovered a dairy that had begun delivering fresh milk, butter, cream and cheese directly to people’s front doors. And when restrictions loosened, we discovered an outdoor fruit stand that stocked produce direct from local farms.

There have been, still are and still will be a lot of terrible things about this pandemic. The world may never again be the same again, but is that necessarily bad? I kind of like having high quality milk delivered to my door and knowing which farmer grew my onions. I like the fact that the pandemic gave me an excuse to learn how to make damn good baguettes and brioche buns, better than any I’ve found in the grocery stores. Perhaps the silver lining in this era of darkness is that it has opened doors for more local, and sustainable habits. I for one hope that stays changed.