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!”
Traditional hopscotch rules and layouts are overlaid with a pattern of sorrow for the death and destruction of rural families and communities.
Hopscotch is a game that can be played by the poor, without any sports equipment, playing fields, or car pools. And since this is a game for and by children, it avoids the “killer instinct” so prized by the rich and ambitious, and so familiar to the rural poor of our country.