Home Grown

Before I forget, I'm going to be up in town on Friday. *IF* I get my hands on another one of these wonderfully snugly blankets, I will have a contest and give one or two away. The only problem is, I can't figure out what kind of contest to hold. So, suggestions welcome.

As I was driving myself to school this morning, I noticed something wonderful; all the lakes and streams are finally free. They've been frozen solid for so long, and everything has been so silent and still. It really was amazing to see all the movement once more. Now we just need leaves, because everything has a sort of embarrassed naked quality to it right now that is totally unappealing (kind of like catching sight of myself in the mirror stepping out of the shower..."Good lord, someone fling something over that! GAH! Burning my eyes out here!") I'm really looking forward to dandelion season; they're so thick out here it's like a carpet of gold, and it only lasts about two weeks in May.

During my horrendously long car ride I was also listening to the radio. They were talking about all the genetically modified stuff in our food supply. The theory was put forth that even eating genetically modified foods can cause your own internal stomach "guys" (natural bacteria, etc) to take on genetic modifications derived from the food, including the ones that naturally create pesticides. Meaning that you then have little evil things running around, genetically modified in your body. For a moment I lost track of what they were talking about, and had a mental image of the famous scene from Aliens.

Fantastic imagery at 7 a.m. Really.

Unfortunately, my little daydream just set the tone for everything that followed. The radio show, in short summary, said stay the heck away from the genetically modified stuff, and the stuff that is fed the genetically modified stuff because it's bad and we'll all have unending bad-hair days and grow extra toes. (alright, perhaps the extra toe thing wasn't included, but it's not good.)

I subsequently looked up the information to back it up, because I am not a lemming; I'll go off a cliff with everyone else if I can scientifically back up my reason for doing so, but only then. Horrible stuff. Horrible. Worse, now I actually know about it (rather than tactfully avoiding it and pleading ignorance,) I have no excuse to go on as if everything is normal. Google the debate and you'll see a million hits, you can figure out what sounds right to you. Even PBS has a series called Harvest of Fear. There are a lot of sides to it, but in the end it just sounds like GE foods are a good idea once they get a handle on it - but we shouldn't be eating it yet (and already are. Especially if you eat any processed foods.)

Is it wrong that the idea of eating evil mutant things that are slowly turning me into slime is semi-appealing because the alternatives are so expensive and so much work? Plus, think of all the benefits you would have from sprouting... say... an extra hand? Would it really be so bad?

Oh hush. I know, I know. All this doom and gloom just plays right into the recession for me anyway. A dozen eggs, as witnessed at my local store this past weekend was 3.29 for normal, and 5.89 for organic (gas was 3.48 for regular lowest priced unleaded, just for reference.)

A few years back my husband read the book Five Acres and Independence. He then went completely starkers, built the grand hotel of chicken coops (almost caused a divorce over it) and filled it with a bazillion chickens. (It may have been closer to 30 or 40, but that is LIKE a bazillion chickens! You try living with that many babbling birds beneath your bedroom window and see how charitable YOU are towards them!)

He raved about the book. He made plans. He built a 100 foot by 50 foot fenced garden that he proudly thought I would be able to handle by myself. (For the record, I kill houseplants and literally get motion sick weeding even a small flower bed.) He went on, and on, and on about how we would grow our own food! He explained how we would can things, and rely on crooked supermarkets no more! I huddled in the corner, watching him, taking notes for the divorce lawyer to use as evidence.

Fast forward a few years, a few showdowns with skunks, possums, and one memorable sword fight with a raccoon (literally), the chicken coop deluxe lies broken and vacant:


(that picture is actually from today.)

How the tables have turned. *sigh*

Yes, now I am the one who is reading the book. Not only that book, but trashy vegetable romance how to's like Carrots Love Tomatoes, instead of my normal human trashy romances. It's just not the same. Trust me on this.

I'm starting to fix up the coop. Hammers, screw drivers, nails, screws, and probably a lot of duct-tape in strange areas unless Mr. Savy decides to forgive my earlier attitude and help out. (Who knows what kind of damage I might do on my own?) I'm planning out the garden, trying to figure out a solution to my motion sickness while gardening (you all thought that was a joke didn't you? It's not.)

I was doing this anyway, but after the radio show I heard this morning and the information I started looking up... well let's just say that you will probably find me working outside in the dirt more often than not from here on out.

With lots of sun screen on.

In overall-shorts and mud-boots.

And maybe a big straw hat.

Maybe I should just go get Mr. Savy's shot gun and try shooting the ground in several areas to see if I can strike oil instead?