Occasional Holy Man, Indifferent Bassist, and Maladroit Luthier Who Offers Stray, Provocative, and Insouciant Thoughts about Religion, Archaeology, Human Foible, Surfing, and Interesting People. Breaking the Narrative Since 2001. Cultivez votre propre jardin. [Also, "alot" is not a word.]
Monday, August 29, 2016
When I was a kid, "farm to table" was called "eating at Grandma's house".