Whomever said that food tastes better if you pick it yourself has obviously never picked boysenberries. What the hell? They have thorns! Big thorns! Thorns that fight back! I thought berries wanted to be eaten, so that the seeds ended up moving around? These berries were like “ohnoyoudinnit!” with their sharp thorniness. It was a declaration of war. I kept picking berries even after I’d finished filling the buckets I had; I ate them, put them in other people’s buckets, left them for the birds. It was war, bitches – war, and I wasn’t leaving until there were none left. It was like our Iraqi strategy – only I actually had a strategy, and I won.
There really isn’t any way to predict multiple irate and cranky emails about voles and marmots.
— ‘Bug’ Gwen Pearson
Seek And Find. Maybe.
3am upriver abortion biodefense bioethics biosafety biosecurity book reviews broadway cats chronic pain disability drive across america durc ebola ethics fail feminism food geek geek geek gof health how we eat hurricane irene Mom pain philadelpa Philosophy Politics Pop Culture pro-choice public health reproduction science science communication sciox sex simpler living space the final frontier stem cells stupid people continue to annoy me theatre geek The Daily Show trust weather with you Zeus