"The Peach Tree"

The peach tree started life at a tree nursery amid questions of its paternity.  No one questioned that it was there, but they didn’t know from where the seed had come.  The pot in which it was growing had been located near the outermost greenhouse and had not been found until the little seedling was about 8 inches tall.  Some guessed that some wayward squirrel had planted it, but no one really knew (or really cared).  The daughter of the nurseryman ended up using the seedling in a science project; it was later sold with a tag that read “ Peach, parent stock unknown”.

       The peach tree was bought buy an elderly lady on a fixed income and unceremoniously planted in her back yard.  The lady became ill with a chronic condition and was told to spend most of her time indoors.  The peach tree spent the next years growing without any particular care.  It was never fertilized, except for the birds that nested in its branches. It was never pruned.  It was never treated for bugs – the birds took care of that for the most part.  It pretty much grew wild those first few years, but was full of leaves that raised themselves toward the Sun.

       When the lady died, her children decided to sell her house.  They realized that they needed to clean up around the house, so they hired a landscaping business to get her yard and gardens in order.  A young man was told to clear away the tangled brush and weeds from one particular part of the yard.  While he was doing his job, he came upon the peach tree.  His boss told him to just chop it down, but the young man figured that he might be able to use it.  He asked his boss if he could have it and his boss said he could.  The young man dug up the peach tree and put it in a yellow bucket.  He poured some water in the bucket and placed it in the shade of an old oak tree until he was ready to go home.

       After work, the young man took the peach tree in the yellow bucket to his mother’s house in the country.  He transplanted it near an old fence near the back of her property.  He fertilized it with some rich manure and gave it a good shower of water.  The peach tree seemed to thrive.  It grew a few feet, straight and tall.  The next spring for the first time it flowered.

       The flowers of the peach tree crowned its upper branches.  Bees buzzed around them every morning.  However, the season had come early, causing havoc with all the blooming fruit trees in the area.  There was an intense cold snap that killed almost every little blossom on the tree and the bees didn’t visit the tree anymore that year.  A few of the blossoms sprouted into little peaches – fuzzy and yellow. But before the little peaches could mature, mildew set in and they all fell from the tree.  Some of its twigs dried out and snapped off.  Tufts of lichens grew out of some of its branches.  Winter came again and the peach tree once again went dormant.

       The following spring, a lady in a white van came around.  She busied herself all over the property.  She made it finally to the peach tree, and began to snip off branches.  She sawed off some branches, clipped some dead twigs away, and picked off lichens and parasitic vines.  She sprayed various formulations onto its branches.  She rooted around the base of the tree, turning crystalline compounds into the soil.  She then laid a thick circle of mulch around the base of the peach tree.   Few blooms and no peaches occurred that year, but the peach tree was verdant and tall. 

       Finally one spring, the peach tree burst into bloom; its branches waved with billowing clouds of pink blossoms.  Weeks later, the branches of the peach tree heaved under the weight of bushels of juicy peaches.  People gathered and picked the luscious fruit, singing and buzzing around like bees around a hive.  Laughter filled the air as the juice of peaches ran down chins.  Pie and cobbler recipes were shared; the topic of what makes the best peach ice cream was debated. Soon people left, carrying away baskets of fresh peaches and twirling little twigs of peach leaves with their fingers.

       A mild rain came later that day and washed away some dust and traces of errant peach juice.  Droplets fell from the tips of leaves and the peach tree grew.

King George's Response to the Declaration of Independence

(Have you ever wondered what King George III said after the Declaration of Independence was signed?)

King George III by Johann Zoffany c.1771

King George's response to the Declaration of Independence

His Majesty’s Most Gracious Speech to Both Houses of Parliament

on Thursday, October 31, 1776

My Lords, and Gentlemen,

Nothing could have afforded Me so much Satisfaction as to have been able to inform you, at the Opening of this Session, that the Troubles, which have so long distracted My Colonies in North America, were at an End; and that My unhappy People, recovered from their Delusion, had delivered themselves from the Oppression of their Leaders, and returned to their Duty. But so daring and desperate is the Spirit of those Leaders, whose Object has always been Dominion and Power, that they have now openly renounced all Allegiance to the Crown,
and all political Connection with this Country. They have rejected, with Circumstances of Indignity and Insult, the Means of Conciliation held out to them under the Authority of Our Commission: and have presumed to set up their rebellious Confederacies for Independent States. If their Treason be suffered to take Root, much Mischief must grow from it, to the Safety of My loyal Colonies, to the Commerce
of My Kingdoms, and indeed to the present System of all Europe.
One great Advantage, however, will be derived from the Object of
the Rebels being openly avowed, and clearly understood. We shall have Unanimity at Home, founded in the general Conviction of the Justice and Necessity of Our Measures.

I am happy to Inform you, that, by the Blessing of Divine Providence on the good Conduct and Valour of My Officers and Forces by Sea and Land, and on the Zeal and Bravery of the Auxiliary Troops in
My Service, Canada is recovered; and although, from unavoidable Delays, the Operations at New York could not begin before the Month of August, the Success in that Province has been so important as to give the strongest Hopes of the most decisive good Consequences. But, notwithstanding this fair Prospect, We must, at all Events, prepare for another Campaign.

I continue to receive Assurances of Amity from the several Courts of Europe; and am using My utmost Endeavours to conciliate unhappy Differences between Two neighbouring Powers; and I still hope, that all Misunderstandings may be removed, and Europe continue to enjoy the inestimable Blessings of Peace. I think nevertheless that, in the present Situation of Affairs, it is expedient that We should be in a respectable State of Defence at Home.

Gentlemen of the House of Commons, I will order the Estimates for the ensuing Year to be laid before you. It is [a] Matter of real Concern to Me, that the important Considerations which I have stated to you must necessarily be followed by great Expence: I doubt not, however, but that My faithful Commons will readily and chearfully grant Me such Supplies, as the Maintenance of the Honour of my Crown, the Vindication of the just Rights of Parliament, and the Publick Welfare shall be found to require.

My Lords, and Gentlemen, in this arduous Contest I can have no other Object but to promote the true Interests of all My Subjects. No people ever enjoyed more Happiness, or lived under a milder Government, than those now revolted Provinces: the Improvements in every Art,
of which they boast, declare it: their Numbers, their Wealth, their Strength by Sea and Land, which they think sufficient to enable them to make Head against the whole Power of the Mother Country, are irrefragable Proofs of it. My Desire is to restore to them the Blessings of Law and Liberty, equally enjoyed by every British Subject, which they have fatally and desperately exchanged for all the Calamities of War, and the arbitrary Tyranny of their Chiefs.

Economic Bill of Rights, as suggested by Franklin D. Roosevelt, 1944

Excerpt from President Roosevelt's January 11, 1944 message to the Congress of the United States on the State of the Union[1]: "It is our duty now to begin to lay the plans and determine the strategy for the winning of a lasting peace and the establishment of an American standard of living higher than ever before known. We cannot be content, no matter how high that general standard of living may be, if some fraction of our people—whether it be one-third or one-fifth or one-tenth—is ill-fed, ill-clothed, ill-housed, and insecure. This Republic had its beginning, and grew to its present strength, under the protection of certain inalienable political rights—among them the right of free speech, free press, free worship, trial by jury, freedom from unreasonable searches and seizures. They were our rights to life and liberty. As our nation has grown in size and stature, however—as our industrial economy expanded—these political rights proved inadequate to assure us equality in the pursuit of happiness. We have come to a clear realization of the fact that true individual freedom cannot exist without economic security and independence. “Necessitous men are not free men.”[2] People who are hungry and out of a job are the stuff of which dictatorships are made. In our day these economic truths have become accepted as self-evident. We have accepted, so to speak, a second Bill of Rights under which a new basis of security and prosperity can be established for all—regardless of station, race, or creed. Among these are: The right to a useful and remunerative job in the industries or shops or farms or mines of the nation; The right to earn enough to provide adequate food and clothing and recreation; The right of every farmer to raise and sell his products at a return which will give him and his family a decent living; The right of every businessman, large and small, to trade in an atmosphere of freedom from unfair competition and domination by monopolies at home or abroad; The right of every family to a decent home; The right to adequate medical care and the opportunity to achieve and enjoy good health; The right to adequate protection from the economic fears of old age, sickness, accident, and unemployment; The right to a good education. All of these rights spell security. And after this war is won we must be prepared to move forward, in the implementation of these rights, to new goals of human happiness and well-being. America's own rightful place in the world depends in large part upon how fully these and similar rights have been carried into practice for all our citizens. For unless there is security here at home there cannot be lasting peace in the world."

1.                                ^ "State of the Union Message to Congress". http://www.fdrlibrary.marist.edu/archives/address_text.html. 

2.                                ^ This phrase is found in the old English property law case, Vernon v Bethell (1762) 28 ER 838, according to Lord Henley LC “Necessitous men,” says the Lord Chancellor, in Vernon v Bethell, 2 Eden 113 (1762), “are not, truly speaking, free men; but, to answer a present emergency, will submit to any terms that the crafty may impose on them.”

"Lessons from Lola"

(This is a story I wrote years ago after an encounter with a stray dog.  I reread it and it made me smile.)

I woke up one Sunday with a splitting headache and a bad attitude.  No job and struggling with finances, I felt the heaviness of life making my headache ten times worse.  Add to that the fact that I was mad at my brother over a dog.

                My brother Mike’s dog had had a litter of puppies a few weeks before and I had fallen in love with the runt of the litter.  I would go home to my mom’s house where the puppies were, and I’d spend the day feeding and loving on that little runt puppy I had named Rosie.  I’d sit outside in the sun with her asleep on my lap. 

My brother, sister, and mother all said that it would be impossible for me to have a dog due to my current financial situation and small living space.  But I knew they were wrong, I loved this puppy!  I knew it would make me feel so good and happy to have a dog.  I definitely knew I was totally right, and they were plotting against me.  Was I being selfish?  After all, I was the miserable, depressed one…I knew what was best for me.  How dare they tell me what I could and couldn’t do!  My brother made it clear I wasn’t going to get a puppy.   That little 30-something year old cuss – he was always against me with his “I- know- best- attitude”.   I was pissed at everybody. 

Well, the Saturday before I was going back to my mom’s place, I went and bought a can of dogfood for Rosie. I also grabbed a small bag of catfood to keep the cats at my mom’s house busy so they’d leave Rosie and me alone.  

                So I was prepared – a can of food for Rosie, some nibbles for the cats…. a whole day of loving on my little Rosie.

                OK, so I woke up with another headache and feeling a bit bad.   I took some medicine and called my Mom to tell her I would be running late.   Eventually, I got on the road and started the 40-mile trip.

                I remember listening to the radio and thinking about a story on which I was working.  I happened to look to my right and saw a little rat terrier rooting through some garbage on the side of the highway.  My first thought was why did animals have to suffer from idiot owners.  I just continued to drive when I heard a voice in my head.

                “What makes you think you’re better than the owner that tossed that dog on the side of the highway? You see suffering and you drive on?  Can you live with that thought?”

                 Well, I don’t know what possessed me but I turned the truck around and headed back toward the dog.   I parked off to the side of the road and got out.  In my mind, I thought what are these people driving by thinking about me, but it quickly left my mind when I stood looking at the emancipated, dirty little dog. 

                She ran into the woods looking back at me with a cringing fear.  I walked briskly toward her, clucking my tongue and whistling softly.    She stood there shaking and I moved my hand toward her.   You moron, I thought to myself, never put your hand out to a strange dog.  I pulled back just as she nipped at me.

                I figured that she was just hungry so I ran back to the truck and just grabbed a handful from the bag of catfood.   I carried it back and threw it on the ground in front of her.   She devoured it as well as any dried leaves and such near it.  I headed to the truck and grabbed the can of dogfood I had, opened it, and blew on the can in her direction.  She looked toward me and ran toward me.   Then she stopped.   I clucked and whistled and spoke as if I was in church.  She moved toward me and I poured out the contents of the can.    She devoured the food with gusto.  I looked over her bug-ridden, emaciated body.  I wanted to touch her but didn’t want to scare her.   She ate the contents of the can and looked at me, then she started to look for the can that I had tossed aside.   I grabbed the bag of catfood from the truck and poured some onto the ground.  After I did that I looked up, a state trooper was flashing his lights and was moving onto the shoulder of the road. 

                “OH, shoot,” I said to myself, “I’m going to get a ticket or going to jail over some darn dog.”

                “Is there a problem?” announced the voice over the loudspeaker.

                I stood there thinking nothing.  So I just walked toward the car.  The officer lowered his window.

                “I hope I’m not breaking the law, Sir, but I saw this poor dog on the side of the road.  She’s starving and all, and I just couldn’t pass her by without checking her out.”

                “I was worried you had broken down or something then I saw you feeding the dog.”

“Yes, Sir looks like someone threw her out.  Looks like she hasn’t eaten in days.  I don’t rightly know what to do with her.”

                “If I could I’d take her but my complex doesn’t allow pets. My little boy would love her though.”

                “Well, my mom lives in Reform, I guess I’ll do what I can…. that is if I can catch her and not get bit.”

                “Well, looks to me like you got a friend,” he said, motioning past me.

                There sat the little dog on her best behavior.   Sitting there behind me, her ears flexing in excitement.

                “I don’t understand how people can just abandon animals like that and let them just starve.  People see it and just pass on by; you did a good thing.   Who says that that’s not an angel testing us?  Testing us to see how kind our spirit is.”

                “I agree,” I said, “ and like the saying goes the way you treat animals shows how you treat your fellow man.”

                He laughed and said, “I do agree with you.”

                ‘Well, be careful, I think she’d be good with you.  You seem to have charmed her.” He said winking toward the little excited dog behind me.

                I finally got her, after many attempts, into the truck.  She sat on the seat beside me. She quickly lay down and fell quickly to sleep.

                In my mind was the matter of how I was going to explain this little dog.  I figured Mom would fuss, as would my sister.   I would hear them going on how I couldn’t keep a dog and that it wasn’t going to stay at either of their houses.  I figured it would be a very short visit.

                I tried to put it out of mind, and decide on a name for her. Rosie? No. For some reason, I heard that song “Copacabana" in my head.  You know the first line about Lola being a showgirl kept repeating in my head.  OK, I thought, I will call you Lola.

                I drove up to my Mom’s, and took a deep breath.   Here came my nephew running up to me.  He was going on about the dogs there.  I heard my sister yell something to him. Oh, great, I thought to myself, she’s in a mood.

                I walked to the backyard with Lola at my heels.  My sister saw the little dog and smiled.  Asked me about her and I told her the story.  Then my Mom came outside.  She smiled too and asked about the dog.  I kept thinking it seemed totally opposite from the reaction I expected.

                Lola stayed in the truck asleep the whole visit.   I would check on her from time to time, and she would look up at me with happy eyes and go back to sleep.  In my head I kept telling myself that having a dog is a piece of cake, no problem at all.

                Mom was made dinner for us.  I was sitting at the table, when she stopped looked at me and said, ”So God sent you a dog anyway?  Well, I’ll get her fixed and she can stay here or whatever.”  I don’t know if it did, but I think my jaw dropped.  Or maybe it was more like a punch in the stomach.  It was said so matter-of-factly, no speech, no sermon.  Everything was cool.  I had sort of won, I thought.

                I made my way back to my apartment that night.  Lola stayed in her spot beside me the whole trip.  I thought I had better make a detour on the way and pick up some food for her.  I stopped at a grocery store and figured I could let Lola stretch her legs for a minute and she’d go to the bathroom before I went inside.  She quickly jumped out of the truck and we both walked to a small grassy spot.  That was the spot I learned my first lesson.

                Lola sniffed around and around.  Then suddenly like a little rocket she proceeded to run all over the parking lot.   I ran after her and finally grabbed her and decided to try it again.  I put her on the grass and she looked at me before running off toward the store entrance.

                “Lola! Lola!” I yelled, not realizing I could have been yelling the word “chicken” and got more of a response from her.  People turned to watch me chase a little black and white dog down the sidewalk, with me hoping to catch her before she ran inside the store’s now-open sliding doors.  I finally grabbed her and walked back to the truck breathing a little hard.

                So we finally got back to the apartment.  I left her in the truck and went to find a makeshift collar and leash.  We then went into the apartment and as soon as she walked in she unceremoniously peed in the living room then ran to the kitchen and pooped.  My cat walked into the area, the cat I raised from a kitten.  There and then I learned that rat terriers are bred to attack anything cat-sized or smaller.  The cat flew out the door and I didn’t see him the rest of the night.    Lola walked to the bedroom, jumped on the bed, and passed out for the night.   I myself had a moment of truth as I sat back into my chair thinking about the events of the night.

                I felt at first like I was the victim of some big cosmic practical joke.  Then I had a moment of intense clarity – what we desire and want aren’t always the best things for us.  Sometimes we get so hardheaded about things that we can’t see the reality of things.  If we only listened to the voice inside us and put away our own selfishness, we could understand that the world doesn’t revolve on what we want.

                 The next day, my sister helped me find a home for Lola, a home where she is constantly showered with love and affection.  I now for sure that sometimes the happiness of others does hang on our own actions.  I have also discovered that Lola is actually a very well trained dog, readily obeying most simple commands.  It was if her actions the night before weren’t typical of her.  As my sister and I prepared for Lola to leave me, I caught my sister humming the first line of “Copacabana”.  “Her name was Lola, she was a showgirl.” In my head, I thought, yes, she was.

As my mother says, “Nothing happens by accident.”  There is a purpose for everything under the Sun.  I am glad I met Lola.  She showed me that life extends beyond our own wants and desires.  I’m glad God sent Lola to me.  He used her to teach me a lot.

               

the GMO Letters

One June 26th, I found this letter in the Pickens County Herald (pcherald.com) and decided to write a response.  Below is the letter I saw and then my response.




"Dear Editor,
As a mother and grandmother, entrusted with feeding and nourishing my family, I can understand the fear of GMO foods. But as a farmer who uses GMO seeds to grow soybeans, corn and other crops, I don’t believe there’s any reason to be afraid of this technology.I believe the fear stems from the fact that most people are multiple generations removed from the farm and do not understand the function of GMOs in agriculture.For thousands of years, our ancestors have been genetically modifying plants and seeds through plant breeding. Today, through biotechnology, scientists can make those natural processes happen much faster.GMO stands for genetically modified organism. To create one, a scientist alters a seed’s DNA to achieve a desired outcome, such as making it more tolerant to drought or decreasing the need for pesticides. These changes help farmers become more productive and produce a better crop.On our family farm, for instance, we use varieties of biotech-enhanced corn that are resistant to a common Alabama pest called the southwestern corn borer. Similar varieties help farmers manage pests, diseases and environmental stresses in soybeans, corn and many other crops. These varieties help us increase our yields and provide an abundant supply of food, feed, fuel and fiber to the world.The use of GMO crops has also reduced the number of chemical applications needed to produce the crop. This is beneficial for the environment because we’re conserving fuel, reducing emissions from our tractors as well as reducing the amount of actual chemicals being applied. Overall, our carbon footprint is being reduced because of GMOs.There are numerous reasons for using GMOs, but the final one I’ll mention is because I know the seeds went through a rigorous safety-approval process. Not one, not two, but three government entities — the U.S. Department of Agriculture, the U.S. Food and Drug Administration and the Environmental Protection Agency — work together to inspect and approve each and every genetically altered seed variety and plant brought to the market. This process is thorough and time-intensive, lasting between 10-15 years. What is really reassuring is that in the 12-plus years modern biotech crops have been commercially grown, there has not been a single ecosystem disrupted or person made ill.As Americans, we are lucky to have so many food choices. You have the choice to consume foods that use GMO ingredients or not, but my hope is for you to understand the benefits of each choice. With that said, I will leave you with this final thought: If you have questions about how food is grown or raised, I encourage you to ask the people who have the answers: farmers.
Sincerely,
Annie Dee
Aliceville, AL


Dear Editor:
My family has been farmers since time immemorial, and I am completely against genetically modified organisms (GMOs), so I felt rather patronized by Mrs. Dee’s letter to the Editor last week. I understand that she is a farmer of some note and merit who has chosen to champion the standard of big-business agriculture and who believes the public relations machine of Monsanto and companies like it. That’s her prerogative. She seems to think that the technology of agribusiness GMOs will provide the world with an overwhelming abundance of food, feed, fuel, and fiber –I think it’s the job of the indomitable family farm. I can’t let America’s farms become minions of profiting international agri-business corporations.
Essentially, there are four things I would like to point out about GMOs: 1) There is a big difference between hybridization and genetic engineering, 2) Genetic engineering has already caused damaging ecological effects, and could cause irreversible damage, 3) GMOs have not been absolutely proven safe for humans, and 4) When it comes to choice of consumption we don’t have that choice --it’s forced upon us.
There is a difference between hybridization, which farmers have been doing for thousands of years, and genetic engineering, which is a relatively new technology. They are two totally different farming technologies. Hybridization has been used since the beginning of agriculture - it has given us specific breeds with specific traits within a species. Farmers would breed one type of cattle with another type of cattle to create a hybrid that had the best characteristics of both types.  Farmers would also improve grain harvests through hybridizing one variety of corn with another type of corn.
The problem with modern genetic engineering is that lab-created GMOs combine genes between barriers that cannot occur naturally. Deliberately combining genetic material of one genus with genetic material from a different taxonomic genus is a far cry from the combining of genes within a species by hybridization. For example, Bacillus thuringiensis bacteria DNA is inserted into corn DNA to create genetically modified BT corn. This corn was created to produce the bacterial Bt toxin that is poisonous to certain insect pests, such as the southwestern corn borer. So far, bacillus thuringiensis DNA has been added to corn, potatoes, sugar beets, soy, canola, and cotton. Besides adding DNA from different creatures, scientists also change natural gene sequences; thus creating organisms with characteristics that could never occur in nature or even through hybridization. There is also the problem of irreversible genetic pollution in the environment caused by GMOs.
Theoretically, if a genetically modified salmon bred with wild salmon, unnatural genes would be introduced into the wild population that will remain forever. The same problem of genetic pollution could be seen in corn, wheat, rice or any other crop that has been modified. A hybrid tomato cross-pollinating with a non-hybrid tomato isn't going to radically change the tomato, while a GMO tomato could introduce genetic material from fish or another organism into other tomatoes and totally change what a tomato is. Cross-pollination could totally wipe out open-pollinated heirloom varieties of corn and other crops and make organically grown crops obsolete. A 2004 study showed that GMO creeping bentgrass (Agrostis stolonifera) transmitted its genes by wind pollination to different Agrostis species almost nine miles away.
Do GMOs really help the environment by reducing pesticide use consequently conserving fuel and reducing carbon emissions? Not really. Washington State University agronomist Charles Benbrook notes that “genetically engineered (GE) crops have been responsible for an increase of 383 million pounds of herbicide use in the US over the first 13 years of commercial use of GE crops (1996–2008). This dramatic increase in the volume of herbicides applied swamps the decrease in insecticide use attributable to GE corn and cotton, making the overall chemical footprint of today’s GE crops decidedly negative… The primary cause of the increase [is] the emergence of herbicide-resistant weeds.”
Resistance occurs naturally when a pest is subjected to intense repeated use of a single pesticide or herbicide. This has already occurred with Bollworm resistance to BT cotton in the Australia, China, Spain and the United States. Armyworms have already become resistant to genetically modified corn created by Dupont-Dow and grown in Florida and Puerto Rico. (And here I’d like to make a side note that Field Crops Research (2005) wrote that field tests of Bt corn showed that they took longer to reach maturity and produced up to 12% lower yields than their non-GMO counterparts. The International Journal of Agricultural Sustainability (2013) just published a study that reports conventional plant breeding, not genetic engineering, is responsible for yield increases in major U.S. crops and that GMO crops can’t even take credit for reductions in pesticide use.)
There is absolutely no scientific evidence to support the claim that GMOs have never made a person ill.  However, a 2011 Canadian study looked at the presence of the BT toxin in non-pregnant women, pregnant women and fetal blood. All groups had detectable levels of the BT toxin in their blood, including 93% of pregnant women and 80% of fetuses.  The truth is that we don’t really know what effect GMOs could have on the human body or what the effect of transference of genetic material to might be. One German study showed that when bees released into a field of BT canola fed the canola pollen to younger bees, the bacteria in the gut of the young bees took on the traits of the canola’s modified genes, proving that genetically modified DNA in pollen can be transferred to bees though their digestive system.  In 1999, Andrew Chesson of the University of Aberdeen warned that testing of GMOs might be flawed and might allow harmful substances into the human food supply.  You have to remember that the FDA approved commercial production of GMOs is based on studies conducted by the companies who created them and profit from their sale; there seems to be a lack of hard independent scientific data on the safety of consuming GMOs. There are thirty countries around the world that restrict or ban GMOs because they haven’t actually been proven to be safe for human consumption.
Do you have a choice of whether to consume genetically modified organisms or not?  Not in the United States of America you don’t.  Even if you could directly remove it from your diet, it is still fed to meat animals here in the United States.  According to the USDA, 93% of soy, 93% of cotton, and 86% of corn grown in the U.S. are GMO. It is estimated that over 90% of canola grown is GMO. There are also commercially produced GMO varieties of sugar beets, squash and Hawaiian Papaya.  Currently, there were no genetically modified animals approved for use as food, but a genetically modified salmon is close to being approved. It is estimated that GMOs are now present in more than 80% of packaged products in the average U.S. grocery store.  In Europe any products containing more than .09% (point zero nine percent) genetically modified ingredients are labeled; however the United States has no such labeling requirement.  You really have no freedom of choice in what you consume.  Top Chef judge Tom Colicchio says it best: “Its’ not about taste. For me, it’s not even about the science. It's about freedom. We call ourselves the land of the free and the home of the brave, we export freedom around the globe, we try to anyway, we fight wars in the name of freedom, and yet I don't have the freedom to know what’s in my food.”
Respectfully yours,
Tom Clardy
Reform, AL 35481

The Green Thing

       This story has circulated the Net and has been posted on Facebook. I don't know the original source (if you do, please let me know so I can credit it). I'd thought I'd share it and my response to it (at the end).

The story

       "Checking out at the store, the young cashier suggested to the much older woman, that she should bring her own grocery bags because plastic bags weren't good for the environment. 
       The woman apologized and explained, "We didn't have this 'green thing' back in my earlier days." 
       The young clerk responded, "That's our problem today. Your generation did not care enough to save our environment for future generations." 
       She was right -- our generation didn't have the 'green thing' in its day. 
       Back then, we returned milk bottles, soda bottles and beer bottles to the store. The store sent them back to the plant to be washed and sterilized and refilled, so it could use the same bottles over and over. So they really were recycled. 
       But we didn't have the "green thing" back in our day. 
       Grocery stores bagged our groceries in brown paper bags, that we reused for numerous things, most memorable besides household garbage bags, was the use of brown paper bags as book covers for our schoolbooks. This was to ensure that public property, (the books provided for our use by the school) was not defaced by our scribbling. Then we were able to personalize our books on the brown paper bags. 
        But too bad we didn't do the "green thing" back then. 
       We walked up stairs, because we didn't have an escalator in every store and office building. We walked to the grocery store and didn't climb into a 300-horsepower machine every time we had to go two blocks. 
       But she was right. We didn't have the "green thing" in our day. 
       Back then, we washed the baby's diapers because we didn't have the throwaway kind. We dried clothes on a line, not in an energy-gobbling machine burning up 220 volts -- wind and solar power really did dry our clothes back in our early days. Kids got hand-me-down clothes from their brothers or sisters, not always brand-new clothing. 
       But that young lady is right; we didn't have the "green thing" back in our day. 
       Back then, we had one TV, or radio, in the house -- not a TV in every room. And the TV had a small screen the size of a handkerchief (remember them?), not a screen the size of the state of Montana . In the kitchen, we blended and stirred by hand because we didn't have electric machines to do everything for us. When we packaged a fragile item to send in the mail, we used wadded up old newspapers to cushion it, not styrofoam or plastic bubble wrap. Back then, we didn't fire up an engine and burn gasoline just to cut the lawn. We used a push mower that ran on human power. We exercised by working so we didn't need to go to a health club to run on treadmills that operate on electricity. 
       But she's right; we didn't have the "green thing" back then. 
       We drank from a fountain when we were thirsty instead of using a cup or a plastic bottle every time we had a drink of water. We refilled writing pens with ink instead of buying a new pen, and we replaced the razor blades in a razor instead of throwing away the whole razor just because the blade got dull. 
       But we didn't have the "green thing" back then. 
       Back then, people took the streetcar or a bus and kids rode their bikes to school or walked instead of turning their moms into a 24-hour taxi service in the family's $45,000 SUV or van, which cost what a whole house did before the "green thing." We had one electrical outlet in a room, not an entire bank of sockets to power a dozen appliances. And we didn't need a computerized gadget to receive a signal beamed from 
satellites 23,000 miles out in space in order to find the nearest burger joint.

 But isn't it sad that the current generation laments how wasteful we old folks were just because we didn't have the "green thing" back then? 
       Please forward this on to another selfish old person who needs a lesson in conservation from a smartass young person... 
       We don't like being old in the first place, so it doesn't take much to piss us off...especially from a smartass who can't make change without the cash register telling them how much. 
The end !' 

My response

       “Yes, ma’am, all those were good practices. My grandmother and mother lived through those times too.  I’ve heard many stories of economizing and re-using.  I agree that people waste a lot, and that our generation is different.  But let’s put things in perspective.  No, you didn’t have a ‘green thing’ because you all thought there was pretty much an endless supply of oil and gas, as well as forest and water.  Protecting the environment, as a resource, wasn’t on anyone’s radar –otherwise rivers would’ve never become so polluted that some would actually catch fire.  Recycling was a matter of personal economic necessity for some, but for the most part it didn’t exist – discard it or burn it was business as usual.  No one thought about the ‘green thing’ back then because if they had they would have never used pure nicotine, cyanide, arsenic, mercury, lead, DDT, Chlordecone, or other such harsh and deadly chemicals in their homes and gardens –much less put them in their bodies.  Your generation didn’t see any intrinsic value in mountains, pristine nature or small communities; otherwise, you would’ve never leveled mountains, stripped mined away whole ecosystems and communities merely for financial gain.  Because your generation didn’t understand or have the ‘green thing’ we’ve had to live with the consequences and develop a ‘green thing’. So here take a reusable grocery bag on me and don’t forget it next time you go shopping.  Have a nice day.”

"A Nice Cup of Tea" by George Orwell

("A Nice Cup of Tea" is an essay by British writer George Orwell, first published in the Evening Standard newspaper of 12 January 1946)

A Nice Cup of Tea

By George Orwell

       If you look up ‘tea’ in the first cookery book that comes to hand you will probably find that it is unmentioned; or at most you will find a few lines of sketchy instructions which give no ruling on several of the most important points.

       This is curious, not only because tea is one of the main stays of civilization in this country, as well as in Eire, Australia and New Zealand, but because the best manner of making it is the subject of violent disputes.

       When I look through my own recipe for the perfect cup of tea, I find no fewer than eleven outstanding points. On perhaps two of them there would be pretty general agreement, but at least four others are acutely controversial. Here are my own eleven rules, every one of which I regard as golden:

       First of all, one should use Indian or Ceylonese tea. China tea has virtues which are not to be despised nowadays — it is economical, and one can drink it without milk — but there is not much stimulation in it. One does not feel wiser, braver or more optimistic after drinking it. Anyone who has used that comforting phrase ‘a nice cup of tea’ invariably means Indian tea. Secondly, tea should be made in small quantities — that is, in a teapot. Tea out of an urn is always tasteless, while army tea, made in a cauldron, tastes of grease and whitewash. The teapot should be made of china or earthenware. Silver or Britanniaware teapots produce inferior tea and enamel pots are worse; though curiously enough a pewter teapot (a rarity nowadays) is not so bad. Thirdly, the pot should be warmed beforehand. This is better done by placing it on the hob than by the usual method of swilling it outwith hot water. Fourthly, the tea should be strong. For a pot holding a quart, if you are going to fill it nearly to the brim, six heaped teaspoons would be about right. In a time of rationing, this is not an idea that can be realized on every day of the week, but I maintain that one strong cup of tea is better than twenty weak ones. All true tea lovers not only like their tea strong, but like it a little stronger with each year that passes — a fact which is recognized in the extra ration issued to old-age pensioners. Fifthly, the tea should be put straight into the pot. No strainers, muslin bags or other devices to imprison the tea. In some countries teapots are fitted with little dangling baskets under the spout to catch the stray leaves, which are supposed to be harmful. Actually one can swallow tea-leaves in considerable quantities without ill effect, and if the tea is not loose in the pot it never infuses properly. Sixthly, one should take the teapot to the kettle and not the other way about. The water should be actually boiling at the moment of impact, which means that one should keep it on the flame while one pours. Some people add that one should only use water that has been freshly brought to the boil, but I have never noticed that it makes any difference. Seventhly, after making the tea, one should stir it, or better, give the pot a good shake, afterwards allowing the leaves to settle. Eighthly, one should drink out of a good breakfast cup — that is,the cylindrical type of cup, not the flat, shallow type. The breakfast cup holds more, and with the other kind one’s tea is always half cold before one has well started on it. Ninthly, one should pour the cream off the milk before using it for tea. Milk that is too creamy always gives tea a sickly taste. Tenthly, one should pour tea into the cup first. This is one of the most controversial points of all; indeed in every family in Britain there are probably two schools of thought on the subject. The milk-first school can bring forward some fairly strong arguments, butI maintain that my own argument is unanswerable. This is that, by putting the tea in first and stirring as one pours, one can exactly regulate the amount of milk whereas one is liable to put in too muchmilk if one does it the other way round. Lastly, tea — unless one is drinking it in the Russian style — should be drunk without sugar. I know very well that I am in a minority here. But still, how can you call yourself a true tea-lover if you destroy the flavour of your tea by putting sugar in it? It would be equally reasonable to put in pepper or salt. Tea is meant to be bitter, just as beer is meant to be bitter. If you sweeten it, you are no longer tasting the tea, you are merely tasting the sugar; you could make a very similar drink by dissolving sugar in plain hot water.

Some people would answer that they don’t like tea in itself, that they only drink it in order to be warmed and stimulated, and they need sugar to take the taste away. To those misguided people I would say: Try drinking tea without sugar for, say, a fortnight and it is very unlikely that you will ever want to ruin your tea by sweetening it again.

       These are not the only controversial points to arise in connexion with tea drinking, but they are sufficient to show how subtilized the whole business has become. There is also the mysterious social etiquette surrounding the teapot (why is it considered vulgar to drink out of your saucer, for instance?) and much might be written about the subsidiary uses of tealeaves, such as telling fortunes, predicting the arrival of visitors, feeding rabbits, healing burns and sweeping thecarpet. It is worth paying attention to such details as warming the pot and using water that is really boiling, so as to make quite sure of wringing out of one’s ration the twenty good, strong cups of that two ounces, properly handled, ought to represent.

1946