Chris James Fereno, confirmation name Peter, is an awful writer, please see wordpress.lehigh.edu/SLmalnutrition august 16, 2019.
The early morning sunshine hits the three cars, we scrambled to turn our breakfasts into portable sandwiches. It was the perfect day for a trip in the back of the World Hope pick up truck. Filled with bread and laughter we tumbled out onto the rocky drive of the office. Greeted by Abadu and the puppy Lucky (who is still being held captive plz go visit our gofundme//freeLucky).
Marc and I traipse to the fields. Clouds moved over our heads both literally and metaphorically. Marc and I traded off swinging the hammer. Metaphorically sinking nails into our problems and frustrations and literally sinking nails into our new mesh sieve. Four inch nails disappeared one after the other. By the end of our project our hearts were light, Jawara was making fun of us, and we have a mobile rice drying station.
Like the lizards flying between the moss-covered trees the mushroom team leaped across the flea infested fields and escaped with only a few bites each except for Marc; he is covered. As we darted inside to escape the pending rain Marc went in search of … a cloth? The soapy water swishes around the bottom of our steel pressure cooker. Marc, ft. a cloth, cleans the vessel we are preparing for our life bringing grain spawn. The essence of our fungus, so white and pure, starts its life in this lifeless steaming hot steel drum. Am I waxing too poetic?
Like a baby walrus on the beach, I flop towards the safety of familiarity, the howl of my father, or the cool air in the conference room. Back in the safety of the conference room, free from ants and fleas (though not spiders a mouse or gnats), Marc and I plot our next innovation…. More to come tomorrow.