I've been off this steemit line for over a month now. Not because there aren't many great people and posts to read, but because I was/have been trying to sell my house and that was enough a transition nevermind all that is now upon all of us, no matter what part of the globe we call home.
I just ordered some corn grits, not much else left at the food-supply store, but my daughter, Sunny enjoys them as cereal and I could make some rough corn tortillas, or perhaps a milk-free version of polenta? Or, my new hens may also like a little of the fifty pound bag, all at about a dollar a pound.
Mormon. That is how and where I grew up and so food storage and provident living have been drilled into my head since birth. Planting a garden, preserving, natural fibers (okay the fibers not so much Mormon, but my mom was a midwife) and saving, making do, or making due, hording scraps, doing something with the bitter apples or woody carrots your neighbor gives you. One love in the round.
Moroni, Mormon's son, dropped his trumpet in the earthquake that hit Salt Lake City this past week and in my dream of dreams, he blew it until he no longer could. Imagine how it would look in a black and white Bergman film, an earthquake and then an angel of the Lord dropping his golden trumpet to skitter down a steep roof, a roar of shaking granite earth followed by utter silence, or would it be a screaming of several hundred car alarms?
What do you hear now?
Photo Credit: Deseret News Utah