The book begins when they move to a new house on several acres of wild land in the southern
- factory farmers dump a billion pounds of pesticides on our crops annually! Yes, really.
- the moral question of relying on nonrenewable fossil fuels to transport food
- the way food factories are destroying America’s health at the taxpayer's expense
- how a psychological disconnect between the making of food and the eating of food (and the harvesting of animals) is connected to America's fear of food and our obesity epidemic
- the established link between farm-raised food and good mental health
And for pity's sake, can we stop cutesifying farm animals and hiding from kids that hamburgers are cows and ham is pigs? What's wrong with telling them the truth: that we kill animals to eat? If we can't admit that as a society, what does that say about how mature our food attitudes are?
***
Speaking of health, he smoothly segued, I've doubled my walk with Dog. I don't really have any idea if I walk anywhere from .75 miles to 1.5 miles or more a day, but on the advice of my GP, I increased the walk length to get in some cardio. In the summer here in Devil-Town, where it's still a nice and toasty 98 degrees F at 8:15 p.m., this isn't the great fun it could be, but I've been doing it.
And, as I mentioned a while back, I've pretty much stopped lifting weights, on the advice of my cardiologist. I still do pushups daily and about ten minutes of desultory moves with the 45-pound dumbbell, but the heavy weights have been gathering dust for a while. I've been lifting weights since I was 18 years old, nearly 20 years, and it doesn't feel right, and I miss it. I used to have a fairly impressive upper body; now when I walk, I'm sure people wonder what that silly little fellow with the spindly arms is doing wearing a sleeveless shirt. "Cover up them pasty white twig-arms, boy!"
Well, perhaps no one actually gives a shit, but it's funny to imagine. Anyway, who am I trying to impress? I'm 37. A nearly-40-year-old fellow like me should expect a little corporal degeneration. Even if I still get carded when I buy alcohol.
4 comments:
Well now I have an idea for my next book to read. They recently did a study of grade school children here in England in regards to food and it was amazingly disgraceful how few children realized which meats came from which animals if they even knew it came from an animal at all. The worst part was most children could not choose a vegtable from a list of four foods.
My parents rented a house on a cattle farm when I was sixteen. My dad did so many hours of work for the cattle farmer a year for 1/2 a cow. There was something very gratifying knowing that something my family had done had helped us aquire the meat in the freezer. We knew exactly what the cow had eaten and how it had lived. It seemed so much more dare I say humane than just buying some shit hamburger off Walmart's shelf.
My happiest memories of food is canning vegtables from our garden or from the local farmers market. I felt very conected with the spagetti sauce or the strawberry jam when it was opened because I had either weeded the tomato patch or taken the tops off the strawberries.
Yankee, that's exactly it. If you do read AVM, you'll probably feel right at home with the Kingsolvers.
By the way glad your back. I found you blog just as school was ending and you seemed to take a vacation from blogging. I totally get the rich spoiled kid syndrom. I use to work at five star/diamond hotels amazing what people think money should buy them.
companion recommendation: Unmentionable Cuisine by Calvin Schwabe.
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