I went to the feed store. Because I’m living out this fantasy of being some sort of a farmer. Small scale, doable garden teacher farmer. Define that. Anywho, I went in search of pine straw, elusive pine straw to mulch our beds for the summer. Feed store man, who I suspect is a cowboy of some sort, sold me some hay instead. Cynthia Schaefer, you popped into my head when I was buying it! Loaded it in the van and presented it to my garden students. Kids love hay. They want to roll in it, like livestock. They want to chew on pieces of it, like hillbillies. And finally, they want to make a rather large mess with it. It’s all good, though; we succeeded in mulching our two beds and the kids left garden class covered in bits of the stuff, laughing and joyful.
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