When I went to Girl Scout camp as a camper, CIT, and then counselor, there was a grace we used to sing:
In back of the bread is the flour.
In back of the flour is the mill.
In back of the mill is the wind and the rain
And the Father’s will.
There’s even a YouTube video of it:
Anyway, I’ve been thinking about Jon’s parishioners in Montana who were wheat and barley farmers. With all the crap going around the Internet about the dangers of eating wheat and how gluten-free life is superior, I think about them because the way I’m eating at the moment would mean the loss of livelihood if people gave up eating wheat on a larger scale. It’s why I haven’t read all the Wheatbelly stuff which smacks of new-agey Oprahesque science — cutting carbs is all well and good but there are people who raise organic wheat out there (I know many of them!) and aren’t dousing their field with pesticides. The Wheatbelly craze has the potential to affect them negatively and I’m not chill with that.
And again, I find the Wheatbelly stuff to be good medicine inasmuch as the quack Dr. Oz is good medicine, which is to say. NOT AT ALL.
