No Bread

i didn’t get anything nice like this when i was a kid

Sophie, Nels, Jasmine, my mother and I went to the County Fair again today.  Afterward, we took my daughter to her first session of week-long summer camp.  I didn’t cry or anything.  Not until way later, out of eyesight of my kids.

Sophie would love to receive mail; if you feel so inclined, please write her at:

Sophie Hogaboom
YMCA Camp Bishop
1476 W. Lost Lake Rd.
Shelton, WA 98584

Friday is her last day; the camp asks that any mail arrives by Thursday.

Tonight I make my own recipe of bread: molasses, cornmeal, all-purpose flour, eggs, warm milk, salt, sugar. Believe it or not I like poems, and here’s a favorite:


Wheat is still.  It makes no sound
As it pushes from the ground.
As it runs its slow, serene
Course in rows of tender green.

Wheat is quiet; as it grows
It only whispers what it knows.
What is mute – till it is fed
To children as a loaf of bread

Then it is laughter; it is song;
It is clamor all day long.

– Ethel Romig Fuller

Bread Is Important, Yall
Bread Is Important, Y'all

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