I Thought You Were Going To Complain About The Dust…

The title of this post comes from the words the farmer spoke to me after I waved at him and he got out of his vehicle… expecting the worst I guess, as in another city person who moved to the countryside and then doesn’t understand why there is dust and insects and other bits and bobs which were not in the ideal green living catalogue.

 

I babbled at him in excited crazy person style about having waited all Summer for this very moment, and how much I love watching the farming process… I mean, this is where my food comes from! Sure I buy it in the local supermarket because on weekends I never get up early enough to go to the Farmer’s Market and my fingers are not green no matter how many times I dip them in dye. And I like supermarkets… there is something about wandering aimlessly down the aisles trying to remember why I am there which appeals to my barefoot (not in supermarkets) soul.

He was a very kind and friendly chap who looked bemused by my excitement, and admitted that farming did not excite him as much as it did me. He said he was looking forward to going home and relaxing. I thanked him for his time, and he went off to resume his labour…

…probably wondering what planet I had come from and why I was here on Earth displaying an unusual interest in farming. We know about Soylent Green on my planet.

I certainly didn’t mind the dust. I breathed it in with reckless glee. However another local resident was a bit perturbed by it…

…he kept running onto his web from his hiding place (it could be a her… but I’m going with a him) thinking that another piece of harvest dust blown into his web was a tasty treat for dinner. He got fed up in the end and ordered a fly topped pizza from the local take away.