What’s been perk’n

My friend and I were having an e-mail conversation recently. One of the subjects was the dryness of this winter’s weather. No doubt it is the same where you are. If your spouse is into woodworking, you probably would not be offended if he asked you to do some sanding with your bare feet. In fact, you might welcome the opportunity to get some relief.
It may not be fair to label the weather here as “winter”. It’s been in the upper 60’s to 70’s and it looks like it may be a long term trend. We were given a 10 to 20 percent chance of rain today, but I only counted about 25 drops. They were spaced so far apart I could walk between them.
I was hoping for a good soaking before I begin planting my garden. We have such a short growing season here it needs to get in the ground, mature, and be harvested before the life sucking sirrocos arrive in June. Sometimes I stop and ask myself why I chose to garden in one of the most arid regions in the United States. I’m certifiably insane.
Actually I inherited my love of growing things from my Mom and her folks. Her folks had a farm in Washington State. Cows for milk, cream, butter, and cheese. Chickens for eggs and an occasional Sunday fryer. Lots of produce and a root cellar to keep them usable over the harsh winters. Berries, rhubarb, and German engineering of pie crust like you wouldn’t believe. Gram did all that baking by touch. She could just feel the dough and know what it needed. Baking wasn’t just art or science it was part wizardry. All her kids and grandkids have the recipes that she passed down. But not one of us has come close to the real deal. We’ve had discussions about what is missing from our version. Is it the flour from the old flour sack. Is it the crystal clear and snow-cold well water? Is it the home churned butter, or maybe the warmth of the kitchen from the wood burning stove? All I know is that when I was a kid and all us cousins would gather for what everholiday we would line the circumference of our plates with her rolls. Every child’s plate had no empty parking spaces around the rim.
Today our rolls come out of a cardboard tube. I can not bring myself to buy them. First of all I’m sure I would die from just reading the list of ingredients, and secondly I nearly always have a heart attack when the tube “pops”. Same way with the toaster. I know it’s about ready to spring the contents up, but it always gives me a “start” none the less. I never considered myself “highstrung”. (“un-strung”, maybe, but “highstrung” – never.)
So disheartening to see where the United States of America has taken food and nutrition to in our modern day. We have industrialized the family farm to giant co-ops, fertilized, insecticided, radiated, and so modified our basic staff of life that it no longer looks like, tastes like, or act upon our bodies as it should. We Americans as a people are getting more obese and our medical/pharmaceutical system is making money hand over fist as we contract diabetes, heart disease, and other obesity related infirmities.
Perhaps WW stands head and shoulders above the medical community in this respect. We know that what we eat has a direct impact on our health and the health of our children and grandchildren. Look at a picture of yourself taken three months ago. Look at your blood work, look at the way your clothes fit as opposed to back then. Wait til the results come in from Dr. Oz’s – maybe we really will become a Transformation Nation.


About tnman

I was born, then I was born again.
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