D'vorahDavida
Yetzirah

  Today, because I could tolerate it no longer, I dove into the Room of Requirement, kicked arse and took names. I don't know WHY it happens, I don't know HOW it happens, but that room seems to have a mind of its own. I can impose strict, first born, PhD level organizational skills to it, but in a matter of days it starts to deteriorate into chaos once again. I think Entropy himself must have sublet the space without my permission. I want to see his papers. Anyway, there was a project in amongst the clutter that I decided I would tackle, once I uncovered it. Corn. It had to be taken off the cob. So I commenced. It's a tedious job of rubbing one cob against another to loosen the kernels. I felt a certain kinship with all people who have worked the land and still work it, without big machines to do this kind of task. I got a blister on my right palm. Just sayin'. Eventually, I got it all done. I now have some nice dried corn cobs to start fires with. Not many things go to waste around here. And because I'm a photography fool, and I have cabin fever, I took a few little portraits... Here's the whole harvest: Now, I cannot really feed this to the chickens. It needs to be cracked. Enter Mr. P's hand mill.... This is going to take a while. And before the day is out, that back room is going to be mine again..... for a while.