Part Two - Pennsylvania Farm Show - Lamb chop poem

As I said to Ada and Rich, these posts are for me, in order to remember Great Events.

 This green was growing in what looks to be an old Crisco can. Poinsettias were everywhere, used as decorations.

 Leeks? No thanks. Too much hard work removing the gritty bits of dirt. This is how brussels sprouts grow.

 Green scallions growing in a glass jar.

 First prize in baked goods were what looked to be Pecan Tarts.

 Different types of sweet breads.

 Angel food cakes. Egg whites folded into the flour. We never knew there were so many varieties.

One of the judges told us that Appearance is only 10 percent of the score. The taste is the other 90 percent.

Everything we ate at the Fair was delicious. Later, Rich had a chicken sandwich on a delicious roll. I had one deviled egg, for a dollar.

 Here are the winners of the cupcake contest.

Again, remember the 10 percent rule.

My mouth is watering now, is yours? And I don't even LIKE cupcakes. Too sweet!

 Best chocolate cake. I'll pass.

 Oh, turn around and smile for the camera, Mr Duck.

 We thot we saw a rooster, but the hens must have these coxcombs too b/c we saw an egg she'd laid. If if was a golden one, I'd have picked it up.

 Interesting display which showed how ducklings would walk a ladder to get to food, and then slide down.

Some however did not wanna slide down and simply returned the way they came.

Everyone loved this. Hope my grandkids - Grace and Max - will come one day. Long ride though.

The audience really dug out. There were many professional cameramen at the show, both video-takers and still shots.

 Every one of these brown eggs will hatch. Can you see the hole pecked out above? You'd see the eggs rocking. When the chicks would get out, they'd just lie there.

You thought they might be dead, but you could see their haunches moving. They were breathing.

Kids really enjoyed this.

 Was gonna send this photo to my sister Donna. At her Woodwinds Condo in Hatboro, they have a terrible problem with ducks, who come out of the waters and crap all over everything.

She'll be moving out on Friday, April 24, the day before her birthday. She's looking for a house as we speak. She likes dis one.

 Someone raised this duck and won a first prize for him.

Does the duck feel proud and happy?

Rabbits were there.

 I took pix of them b/c Helen, who runs our Daytime Meetings, used to have pet wabbits.

 Hey, relax on a cow.

Don't mind if I do.

We knew we weren't allowed back here but we were trying to get to one of the many arenas where shows took place.

 Gosh, I'm tired. I think I'll take a brief lay-down. Question? Can I fall asleep w/o Charlie Rose on? Oh, I forgot. I'm not an animal husbander.

 Get out of here, he said.

 Sheep-sheering contest.

Standing-room only!

Our man, Jimmy Dean, was on the extreme left.

 Above in the plaid shirt is the man who was faster.

 This is some of the wool shaved off by Jimmy Dean.

The entire process of knitting a sweater takes two and a half hours. It was all being demonstrated at the farm show.

When we were kids, my Aunt Ethel would knit us sweaters. I once had a beautiful red sweater. I forgot that until now. It's good to ventilate your brain.

It takes my camera TEN LOUSY SECONDS to take a photo, so I missed these PA state troopers on their horses. The animals were huge, black, and beautiful. 

 Steve is a full-time farmer in southwestern Massachusetts, near Lenox. He drives here every year to learn things.

He told Rich he doesn't like doctors and explained why. Rich, of course, is a newly retired radiologist. Rich adapted immediately to retirement and doesn't miss the profession at all.

 Steve's calloused hand that has milked his Holsteins. His dad used to live there and help with the farm.

Did I tell you that Scott's bro/law Dan's last name is Rohrer?

We drove straight to the Jarrettown Inn for dinner. The GPS led the way. 

Finally got a chance to wear this warm sweater my friend Ellen Rosenberg gave me.

 Bianca was our waitress. Her Palestinian grandmother, just died in Palestine at 98 or something like that. Bianca believes she lived long b/c she grew her own healthy food.

 My lamb chops with mushroom sauce, green beans, and the potato cake tucked on the left were scrumptious!

 So was my cheesecake with caramel sauce.

I had injected 10 units for the meal b/c when I got there I was low. 59. Ate three pieces of delicious bread.

Now I injected another 10 for the cheesecake. When I got home I could barely walk.

Why? Too much insulin gives me cramps in my left leg.

Rich ordered chocolate gelato. 

Dyou know how much discipline it required to do these two blog posts?

Let's give her a round of applause.

No need. I'm eating my two leftover lamp chops post haste!

THE COMPOST HEAP

My ears freeze as I trudge through

the stiff frozen grass to deposit

the garbage of the day

this time, with great excitement.

Last night I dined on lamb chops

sucking on the tender pink meat

and toss the bones

of this oddly shaped cut of meat

on the perimeter.

They resemble the tall spikes

of the peace sign

they stay put for now

on the growing line of

the uneaten:

brown egg shells

tough asparagus stumps

lemon wheels that in

summer will float

soundlessly in

glass pitchers

sweet-smelling

coffee grounds

flung from an

expensive coffee filter

Two hours later

I return in the dark

a motion-detector

senses my presence

and lights up the

compost heap

under the eye of heaven.

I wanted to know if

the lamb bones had

been digested by

the fox.

Not yet.

Perhaps he is out there

now, dragging them out

to his lair

part of a delicious supper

for himself and the

family, dining without

expensive cutlery

or ceremony

In the morning light

clad in warm jacket

and beret

I will inspect the

compost heap

and rejoice that

the slaying of the lamb

has brought sustenance

and pleasure to man

and beast alike.