Step away from the curds and whey Miss Muffet. You’re losing this one.
There you are, beavering away in your regimented kitchen making your latest batch of kefir, keeping one eye on your ‘activating’ grains and wondering where your next pasture-fed protein is coming from. (And no chemical condiments please, we’re trying to give them up.)
Admit it. The health train has left the station. We’re living longer but we’re dafter. That’s longitudinal ‘real life’ science for you. Someone has to make the sacrifice.
It turns out, we’ve seriously underestimated grass; arguably the most boring subject on the planet to those of us who don’t need to eat it. The trouble with grass was, it didn’t grow fast enough for our liking.
When the agri-boffins discovered some great new ways to beef up our food chain and sell the left-overs to the ‘third world’ (most of whom have much better sources of protein), how could they know all these diseases that were scarcer than unadulterated cows milk could pop up way down the line?
The super food chain is the weakest link. And it has offspring. Alzheimers’, Parkinsons’ and a few more we don’t know about yet.
Just about everyone knows it’s time to round up the big Pharms, ditch the grains and the hormones and get back to pastures old. But no one ever wants to be first to tell the big boys bad news. You know how it is.
So while we wait for them to get around to it, here’s a diversion.
You could feed things we don’t want to kill. That would make a nice change.
I am an early adopter of the meadow. I hate to mow. At last I have permission to leave the monster in the shed. Don’t you think a motor mower is just about the most insulting sound of suburbia? And I live in a country village which is full of people who have escaped from suburbia and brought their filthy habits with them.
If it wasn’t so wet in Wales (Rule 1. Always allow drainage) I would pave the whole 49 yards (or 49 steps if you haven’t got a tape measure). But I love my push mower. So this summer I mowed little paths in my “lawn” with my bright yellow push mower and pretended I had a pasture. You need to know that I was expecting wildflowers to erupt from a turf lawn. This is going to take a while.
But I did get a meadow of sorts and every time someone said, “What’s with the wilderness? Are you depressed or something?” I could raise a superior eyebrow and talk down to them. “Haven’t you heard there’s a threat to bees, butterflies and harvest mice? Too many people are mowing their lawns.” Catch up.
I often find focusing on the small things helps a lot.
Here’s my latest discovery. Remember how we were told buddleia plants (weeds actually) were good for butterflies? Think again. Butterflies just guzzle and go. They can’t lay eggs on buddleia. So they’re useless for reproduction. So there.
Border Lines 