What Are You Eating ? Books About Food

Although I'm sure you remember the hoopla about Michael Pollen's Omnivore's Dilemma in 2006, if you have not yet picked it up to read, I seriously suggest that you do. If you are interested in finding out about American Industrial Agriculture, Industrial Organic, the reason that cows should not be fed corn, and the way to make your food selection not only a sustainable act, but a political act--then you must read this book.

Although I'm sure you remember the hoopla about Michael Pollen's Omnivore's Dilemma in 2006, if you have not yet picked it up to read, I seriously suggest that you do. If you are interested in finding out about American Industrial Agriculture, Industrial Organic, the reason that cows should not be fed corn, and the way to make your food selection not only a sustainable act, but a political act--then you must read this book.

Micheal Pollen has taken detailed information about the food we eat, how it is grown or raised, how it is processed, how it gets to our hungry mouths, and the mark that its production leaves on the environment.

I finally had the chance to read this exquisite book during the last month, and found it increasingly difficult to put down, even though I am living with almost 24 hours of daylight and numerous outdoor activities to take the place of reading.

Not only is the book brimming with fascinating and useful information, but Pollen discusses and quotes various other fantastic less well-known (at least to me) writers who have written on the subject of farming.

This book has re-inspired me, it has reminded me of the values I hold in food, in treating the earth, and in treating animals. I have started a list of the things I want to do, things I have only thought about for brief moments during the past several years. I am now calling myself to action, and have finally decided that yes, what I eat is more than carbs fat and protein, it is a political statement, it is my decision not only to nourish myself and to respect the earth, but to adamantly oppose industrial agriculture. Local is the only sustainable choice--everything else has costs. I am also hell-bent on getting rid of my affinity for soda.

Other books of interest, that I haven't yet read but are sitting on my shelf:

And . . .

And . . .

The Return

It takes a trip away
to regain those things
you lost in the comfort
of his daily presence.

Learning how to sleep
without him, has somehow
helped you to dream again
and cherish the memory of his warmth.

That sprint at the end of your run,
made you lose your breath
but helped find that feeling
you forgot existed.

It took a few walks,
long and quiet, to figure out
where you came from,
and where you want to go.

You will return to
his arms, but with
this freedom and with
this confidence.

Now you're ready--
ready to walk with him.

Fire in Anchorage, June 5, 2007

Today there was a 2 alarm fire in Anchorage that took over five hours to put out. I was watching the fire rage for several hours and got some great shots, which are below.

Missing Your Touch

I spend each day, passing people, holding doors, barely brushing against an arm, possibly shaking someone's hand. After four years, feeling the warmth of your hands, the strength of your arms wrapped around me, and the heat of your breath on my neck, I now pass each day with no human physical contact. As the days pass, I feel more and more like an infant, who has been coddled for the first 10 days of life, and then left in the middle of a desert.

I come home, to a silent house, wishing for noise, for someone's voice, to fill the empty air. I stay awake until I'm too tired to think, so I won't lie in bed and think of you. I forgot how difficult it is, to stay warm under the covers, without your body beside me. I pile on the blankets, but still shiver during the night. As it approachs the summer solstice, I count down the days until I can see you.

Thoughts from Anchorage, AK

The Last Time
When was the last time
you lied down in the grass
with your face to the sky
and your legs and arms spread apart,
while you felt your chest rise
and fall with each breath.

When was the last time
you sat quietly
by yourself, with no book to read
no bus to catch, no where to be,
except exactly where you sat.

When was the last time
you appreciated an imperfection
and ignored whatever was drawn
outside of the lines.

When was the last time
you stood naked
in front of the mirror
and felt happy
with what you saw.

Just a Thought
This evening, as I brushed my hair,
I thought--what if I just asked him
to stay the night,
to nestle beside me,
put his arm around my waist,
the way that you do.

To just sleep there,
with his knees touching
the back of mine.
Without speaking, he could
kiss my neck, and say "goodnight,"
all so I could pretend it was you
beside me, your fingertips,
resting on my waist,
and your lips.

Perhaps I could make believe
that you weren't 3500 miles away,
and instead lying here with me.