It’s been a month now since we had to put down our Buttercup. Buddy, our 7-year old black cat with the golden eyes never knew a day without his older brother and mentor. The poor guy has been lost without him. He looks for him under the beds, in the gardens, even across the street. Mind you, based on the amount of attention and the number of treats Buddy is getting these days, I can’t imagine it will be much longer before he moves on like the rest of us. That being said, all of us continue to mourn his loss as we get on with our lives.
Our gardens are finally planted and if we get through the next few days of low temperatures, we’ll probably be good. The farmers are finally getting to their fields and there are a few signs of life as the rows of corns, wheat and soybeans poke through the ground and begin their summer of growth. For a city slicker like myself it is so exciting to watch the process of plowing, weeding and seeding, the tractors with their loads making their way down the country roads, going from field to field getting their crops in the ground to feed the world.
Like a lot of people, I sometimes forget that my food does not grow wrapped in cellophane or just magically appears in the produce section of my supermarket. Virtually 100% of what we eat is grown by farmers and either sold raw to the consumer or processed by companies like Green Giant, Kellogg’s, McCain’s and Del Monte and sold in cans, frozen in bags, or added to soups, stews and other foods.
So next time you get stuck behind a slow moving farm vehicle, instead of getting flustered and impatient, give them a break – they might just be hauling your next meal.
Cafe Terrace at Night
Never one for flashy titles, Cafe Terrace at Night (1888) by the ever-prolific Vincent Van Gogh, is one of the most individual depictions of such a mundane setting. Though Van Gogh never signed this piece, he references his famous Cafe masterpiece in many personal documents.