Waste

It's appalling, what gets thrown away. I could have fed a hog for a week on the left-overs from the brunch. I rescued the ham trimmings and a bone, several cups of minced onions and peppers, and enough biscuits to gorge the geese down at the lake. I had to buy two cans of beans (two for a dollar, Great Northern, house brand) and I'm well on my way to making a pot of ham and bean soup that would feed at least eight. It freezes well, so it'll be eight meals for me. With the cornbread (I need eggs, another expense) this works out to 30 cents a meal. Not counting my time: splitting wood, reading at the island; standing up, when I roll a smoke, so that I remember to stir the pot. It's all a matter of time. This is how you control your food budget. The last dinner party I attended, I took one of those gallon zip-lock bags ( I've never bought one these, I just recycle ones that cross my path), and stayed late, to help clean up; made a vegetable soup, from leavens, is that the correct word? It's either late or early and I go out to pee. It's cold, but there is one star, shining through a break in the clouds. Just enough. Joel asked me if I was satisfied, and I told him that I was. I've now been on the ridge longer than I've ever been any one place. A matter of circumstance. Early morning light is a wonderful thing, the way it breaks over a bleak landscape. Hard stop.