My bio should to start here:
“Early Sunday morning, June 4, 2017, I was sicker than I had ever been before. Too sick to even bend over, as I vomited all over the toilet, myself, and the bathroom floor — and I didn’t even care.”
This was the aftermath of being engulfed in a cloud of Roundup from a giant agricultural sprayer while I was mowing my lawn the previous afternoon.
The incident motivated me to write “You Know You Live near a Factory Farm When Your Kids Go Fishing with a Pool Skimmer” — a picture book with large print and cautionary captions. “Family Farm Fun” is the second book in the Factory Farm series.
At this same time I grew increasingly aware of the treatment that the rural community in the town was receiving, and began my blog on elitist policy making: Rural Tompkins County — The Road to Hell is Paved with Good Credentials.
As for right now, what should I do next?
I think I’ll go to my favorite pub. Maybe there’s someone there who hasn’t heard my story.
My brother says, “Good luck with that!”
I don’t know what to call the use that I made of this famous poem. It wasn’t recycled because so much of the original structure remains. It wasn’t repurposed because love of nature is at the core of both. Probably “redecorated” would be a better description: Twisting the strands of reverie to make a net that captures the darker side our false stewardship.
In these days of acceptable pollution and understandable destruction of the natural world, no amount of academic assurances can ameliorate the pain of seeing what is being done.