The first dose, I assume, is common to us all. We make a choice to read or research something because we are interested in it. And then, "yay, what a fun thing to read/learn/do!"
The second dose, for me, may be unique. I analyze just what it is that I am so thrilled to read, and I laugh out loud and shake my head at the subject matter.
Take this, for instance:
|by J. I. Rodale|
I borrowed this gem from a friend and market-gardener. But seriously??? Over a thousand (fairly antiquated) pages about compost? This is what thrills me???
And because yes, it does, I am entertained all over again.
But even I didn't expect there to be paragraphs to take my breath away. Man, they could write back in the day. Listen to this:
"One man will say, "From whence will come the raw materials with which to make compost?" and go straightaway to the chemist for a bag of something. He thus identifies himself as part of a system of soil banditry - taking, but hot giving.
Another man does not question. He knows that God gave an adequacy of everything and that if he seeks he shall find. He goes forth upon the highways and ventures into the byways. He comes home laden with the necessary stuffs, the wherewithal to mix a dish fit for the most savory carrots or the most exotic zinnias. He is weighted down with humus materials, both animal and vegetable, which the unknowing bystander considers trash or worse, but which, like the touch of Midas, will turn into gold under his competent hand."Be still my heart.
I am finding compost poetic. We are talking here about scrounging manure (or maybe even roadkill??) and... it's beautiful.
Trust me, if this were anyone else, I'd be laughing at them. How can I do less to my own self?