Day 26: omnivorism

I had a jolly time writing THIS STORY. (IMPORTANT NOTE: If it doesn't come up, go to Google and type in "Rosenbaum Astorian". Your first choice should be "Camp Rosenbaum founder honored at Camp Rilea ceremony"). I ran into a kid I took French with years and years ago. His red hair has not diminished in brilliance. I met Bella when she came up and asked if she could take pictures with my camera. I almost had to tackle her to get it back. There were all sorts of Good Cops running around who I got to interview and bother and photograph. I love these assignments. Love them.




But anyway...

Perhaps I shall howl into the wilderness for a bit and see where the sound bounces.

Dear Mom: I have been very safe. I don't go outside when it's dark and I resisted the urge to wander down alleys.

Dear Adam: Whenever you want to launch your farm, I have some people you should talk to and I will write any grants or press you need if you'll pay me in produce.

Actually. Let's pause there. I'm very excited about food. I spent today interviewing hippie grocers and taking pictures of their food, interviewing former-chef, now-a-farmer and taking pictures of his food, and interviewing the owner of a bakery/cafe and taking pictures of her food. Fresh food, well-grown and intelligently cared for is heavenly.

If there was a copy of Michael Pollan's "In Defense of Food" nearby I would pay the ridiculous $15 it demands. I recklessly bought "The Omnivore's Dilemma" yesterday. I bought it new, a rare occurrence. New books are foreign to me.

This weekend there's a whole festival dedicated to fresh, local, lovely FOOD. I will get to eat, hang out with people who might become my friends, and add to my t-shirt collection (the Portland Police Bureau gave me a t-shirt yesterday and another was promised me today by the bakery owner). My story previewing and expanding on this festival will run in tomorrow's paper. I'm currently avoiding the writing of it. The task daunts me. I have so much I could say, so many good quotes and stories. I hate this part, the sifting. I write long, rambling first drafts with everything I love stuffed into them then I have to go back through it and edit like Attila the Hun, slaying and smiting.