It's called a "blessing" for a very good reason, it is!!

I hate waste.  

It’s not an “I’m-a-cheap-Scottish-woman thing.”  It’s a practical, mid-life kind of thing.  Although recently, I suspect it has a lot to do with my zip code.

Living in the 81054 or Bent County Colorado, I am blessed each day to see your food in its infancy.  The bread you make into toast, the cereal, the hamburger you devour at lunch and the ham you slow bake for Sunday after-church lunch.  The sweet, juicy melon that is such a treat this time of year. If you lived here you'd understand why the prayer before you eat is often called a blessing, because it is!!

If you lived here and noticed what I do, you wouldn’t throw away those leftovers.  If you were here, you would see the farmer toiling away to plant the seed only to see the wind blow it away three days later.  You would see the pain in the eyes of the septuagenarian ranchers when the dry cracked earth produced no grass for their cattle to graze upon.  You would witness a round-the-clock presence in the fields during certain times of growth in the crops, some seem afraid to leave for what might happen.  The crop duster planes tireless swoops to again treat a plant that an entire family has prayed over time and time again.  It is a tricky process to get that bread on your table.  If you ever saw this cycle happen you would never throw out stale bread again.  Instead you would soak it in milk and egg and create French toast.  The frenchies might’ve understood and appreciated this tireless agricultural process.   Because if you translate these yummy breakfasts treat into English, it literally means “lost bread.”  But it is not.

If you only understood how many regulations, fines and fees are imposed upon the small farmer and rancher by our government you would wonder why on earth he still does it.  The farmer has faith in his crop and the rancher shares this feeling about his cattle.  The livelihood of family farming and ranching is disappearing as it is more and more difficult for even break even.  

I don’t think that people understand how our food gets to our table.  Many well-meaning suburban mommies shield their children from the cold, hard reality that our food is grown and raised for us to eat.  My daughter told me that a boy in her fourth grade class proudly announced that he doesn’t eat meat that’s been killed…..no….he eats meat from the supermarket.  *Head slap*

I understand that not everyone has the blessing of having a farmer or rancher in their family or knows one.  I think that schools should teach where our food comes from in a sensible way.  I would suspect that food would be wasted a lot less.

~Anne Taylor

daughter-in-law of some SERIOUS cattle ranchers :)
#Blessings #Blessed