Let It Grow Organic Gardens

And I resumed the struggle. -Vladimir

Saturday, February 19, 2005

Tales From Organic Agriculture

I'm doing my part to support the war.

Christ, the season hasn't even started yet, hardly, and I'm already up to my ass in the 21st Century.
Up early (too early, but nevermind) to drive into Leicester for to purchase four (4) separate petroleum products.
In order of expense:
1 tank gasoline (truck)
15 gallons hydraulic fluid (tractor)
1 case motor oil (tractor)
5 gallons kerosene (greenhouse)

We're well on our way to becoming a superfund site. (And I just discovered that "superfund" is not listed in Microsoft Word's Spellcheck Dictionary.)(What does that tell you?)
Oh, and I managed to bust the front door off the hinges (I'll save that for a different post) so I had to buy a 2 X 4 to fix it. Add deforestation to my list of today's accomplishments.

Supposed to get down to 20 tonight, and I've still got the plug-in electric heater in the well house. Three light bulbs burn in the house right now; the radio's on; the heat mat is plugged in beneath a tray of seeds; the fridge is humming; I'm going to run the laundry machine tomorrow (if I remember;) the computer, obviously, is plugged in; and everytime I flush the toilet the well kicks on. Burn more coal.

I've got to drive all over just about the whole world next week: tomorrow to see MB (my permanent intern for life,) Tuesday to a meeting in Marshall, Wednesday to a meeting in Asheville, Saturday to a conference in Swannanoa. It's only gasoline. We know how to get more.

I've finally gotten around to starting to put a permanent water line to the greenhouse. A hundred feet of plastic tubing and a plastic bag full of little plastic connector thingies. ("Thingies" is not in Microsoft Word's Spellcheck Dictionary.)(Things get curiouser and curiouser.)

("Curiouser" is not ...)

Evening is a time for contemplation. It's dark outside. I'm tired but well-fed. It's cold outside but I'm warm in here. Another glass of wine, I'll post a little something, and brush my teeth and go to bed. I reflect on my day and things seem to adopt for themselves an air of significance. Believe you me, the environmental impact of my doings occur to me only when I'm sitting down and thinking back about it all. This morning, my main thought was: "There's goes that hundred dollar bill." And all day, as I was using the afore-mentioned litany of war causing liquids, my prime thoughts were "Man, it's cold today." And "I'm hungry."

But that seems trivial, now. I'm alone. Just me and my Creator and Microsoft SpellCheck. I think about the endless expansion of the universe and the relentless progress of Time, a million years of human progress to get me to this point, the ineffable mystery with-in a single brassica seed, the miracle of the sun, half a world a way, on its way to rising in the morning. There is a season, turn, turn turn. And even though I've taken a shower and done the dishes, I've still got motor oil under my fingernails.


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