Saturday, June 16, 2012


I am in the process of threshing and winnowing my wheat. This might be a process you could charge for as some kind of therapy. There is ample time for thought as I roll the heads in my hands (not the typical threshing method, but my only recourse for now), and I am pretty sure it is impossible to be grumpy while watching the chaff blow crazily away in the slightest breath of wind. I haven't weighed my harvest yet, but I am going estimate 3 pounds. Not exactly a year's supply, but enough for a loaf.

Luke and I were quietly hand processing our tiny wheat crop yesterday when the corn farmer who plants the neighboring fields rolled by spraying something distinctly non-organic. We both glanced at each other and I said, "you know, you really have to talk to the farmer and realize that he is just trying to do his best, or you could get really snotty about that." What I meant was, even though I think his methods are distinctly wrong, he is still my neighbor in need of love and respect.

Heck my free range snotty chickens eat monoculture corn every day. Sigh. You who is without sin...

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