one month old (in chicken years)

Oh Hello, The farm is the world in microcosm. Any and every relationship in existence is witnessed being played out by a cast of characters as diverse as the billions of organisms contained in a tablespoon of healthy soil. From the heartwarming antics of the "pantzer" to the leghorn impersonation of the Hutu and Tutsi one can but wonder at the layers of meaning contained in our ability to observe, collate and empathize. All this in the hope that the small revelations can lead to large clues as to how this tiny life integrates seemlessly with All Life. So much power, so little perspective, so it goes. Our guiding principle here at the Rancho is to allow the intuition to flourish by deepening ones willingness to simply observe and to then act, with confidence, based on those observations. Much of that is routine work and common sense stuff, but hidden within the tapestry of routine can be found patterns in nature which point to universal principles at work and play. Patterns which re-enforce our natural tendency toward integration with our surroundings and a sense that being of service to that which tirelessly, endlessly and without thought or desire supports and nurtures us is natures reward for being human on Earth. On the other hand, if you are Monsanto, Carghill, A.D.M. or other agromaniacs, the stated goal is to control the worlds seed, fertilizer, pesticide and food supply through legislation aimed at legitimizing yet another form of genocide. Want a cup of scary? Google Codex Alimentarius for the creepiest look at foods future and the end of any semblance of "organically" grown food. I've followed this issue for some time now and am not optimistic given that Tom Nutsack, with incestuously close ties to Monsanto was named secretary of agribusiness and that HR 875 is about to be crammed through congress giving unprecedented power over the food supply of the world to those who, in a just world would be hanging by their testicles from the nearest organically grown tree. By the way, the only legislator who has ever gotten back to me on this is Abercrombie, and while his message was laden with gobbledegook, at least he tried. The monsanto mafia, rothschild molesters and kosher nostra are well on their way to controlling food and money in the world. As a public service we have included some recipes for money, since food is rapidly becoming too expensive to buy (over 7 bucks a loaf for bread) and since your "victory gardens" will soon be subject to the scrutiny of monsanto storm troopers armed with pollen guns and ready to claim your harvest as their own and then levee a six figure fine for your seditious behaviour. Sauteed sawbucks:
  1. Shred (don't chop) a pile of twenties.
  2. Grease skillet with toe jam or a spray of underarm deoderant.
  3. Lightly saute sawbucks until the edges begin to brown and curl.
  4. Remove from heat, cover with brackish water and let sit for twelve minutes.
  5. When the money is al dente, serve over a bed of nickels.
Fricaccee of fifties:
  1. Stack fifty dollar bills until one and a half inches high.
  2. Cut into cubes. Wrap with duct tape.
  3. Gather some tree bark and dead leaves (while nobody is watching) and form into matzo balls.
  4. Place ingredients in stew pot with water substitute and green antifreeze.
  5. Bring to a rolling boil, cool and serve over a some spent shotgun shells.
PICT1682Three cheers to Doc Bebockboc and nurse Sally for mixing up a cocktail (no pun intended) of poultry sedatives in mild solution for the little leghorn darlings to drink with daily water and high and behold, while they stumble around a bit (probably the valium), they no longer seem to crave raw flesh. One of the neo-hips going through a "boy" thing asked if she could hang with the chicks and have a shot or two. I told her to reel herself in and mixed her up a pitcher of sunset pina coladas. Nurse Brandy, who has been tireless in her zeal to keep the chicks healthy and happy, all but insisted today that the cure for all my anxieties over watching the cannibals at play was to have her bake up a batch of turnovers with eight different kinds of filling. She told me i'm to eat one an hour and call her in the morning. I think i'll save the white sapote, banana, coconut, pecan turnover with a drizzle of raw cacao sauce for last. Therein lies happymouth. While we have yet to officially name turnovers as part of our House of Yumm offerings, the numbers crunch out well enough that a weekly bake out may be justified, as well as simply prepping and freezing them for you to take home and nuke. We'll keep you posted. So come on down before the property is quarantined and our food confiscated for not containing enough toxic matter to pass for "organic". We're through the looking glass here people. Next stop, sunshine tax. We're open until we're not. Give a call @ 8786287 and come down for some politically incorrect food. The more you come, the more we'll grow. Peace, Jp

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March 2009
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