In the early morning hours, as I get up first, I sit in the kitchen in my wheeled walker and drink my coffee and my eyes always fall on the paraphernalia that sits on my small cupboard deck that has no theme ; or has it in fact a major theme? 
        First, The Amarylis was given as a Christmas gift from Ann,  our neighbor !  I haven't had one for years but my Dad always had two or three in the CN railway station office where we lived as well , to brighten up the wicket in the waiting room. I look at  the flower and am drawn again to think of him.
        Second,  The half empty bottle of red wine corked by Uncle Charlie,  the porcelain cork that resembles Joan's great uncle, and her favorite, who was a rascally physician in Regina in the 40's. I never knew him but she has wonderful stories about him and I wish I had known him and maybe I do already because I had some of that  attitude myself and am drawn to him.
          Thirdly,  The two little bronze frogs sitting on the ledge in postural differences are part of frog paraphernalia  lurking about the house that are icons in today's world much like the canary in the cage in the coal mine.  When I think they are cute,  they are certainly more than that. I used to keep green tree frogs in my greenhouse to eat bugs but stopped when I think of the world and I thought of John Lennon  and " whisper words of wisdom,  Let it be,  Let it be ."
             Fourthly,   The large Chinese urn was given as a prize to my father-in law who was a fine man and a dollar a year man during the second world war on the Canadian Ration Board.  That he let me marry his daughter 64 and a half years ago was fortunate for me then, and fortunate for me now, and it may just be stuff, and you may think this is "stuff and nonsense" but I think of him often as I look at it.
              Fiftley , The little book that is a compendium of British Columbia birds has given us some pleasure over the years but the birds don't care what they are called as long as they can survive. Today was a good day because the oregon juncos have returned in droves.  They are our winter birds and a welcome addition and I am going to reread my little book to stay familiar with them and their needs.
            Sixtly.   On the other side of the counter is a pile of sheets ,  pamphlets, little books all connected with cooking and all of recent use by she who does all the cooking of new things to try.  She has never been confined to cooking the same old stuff only but has never  avoided a challenge trying anew, a recipe, or changing a recipe by application of the general nature of cooking. Reminds me of Julia and Julie after a fashion !
           I think of her courage to try and try and  handle stuff over the many years.  
          What's it all about Alfie ?   

Harvesting from the soil over time without adding to it ends with depleting fertility and leaving it without muscle or synapse.  Soil,   like the mind,  needs regular feeding to reproduce the fertility it was blessed with.
       Good compost may be likened,  in one's life, to the fully digested product of one's past material experience.  With water,  air, heat,  and those harvested materials from the past, a fungal,  bacterial enzymatic biomass is created  which will raise the composted materials into the fertile dust of renewal. The renewal takes time ;  heat, the right enzymes, destruction of pathological bacteria, aeration. watering, catalytic admixture, and earthworms who will tell you that you are on the right track.
       Is  mediation of the infertile mind the same  and as simple as the addition of the carefully prepared compost pile to the soil? Maybe not, but I have to give it a shot,  at least as hard as I work out at the compost bin. It seems to me that remediation of the mind is equivalent to the remediation of the dirt and equally useful.  Then you can trust that the ruminant harvests that you have brought up from your past will be re-digested with care  and  with  luck your muscle, muse, synapses, and mental fertility will be fulfilled and stimulate new growth in your life.  It's really just chewing the cud.
        We aren't that different from compost.  Both of us are special.  We both came from dirt and to dirt we shall return.

A farting horse will never tire : a farting man is the man to hire !
    My pioneer family's homely refrain was a reflection of the met nutritional needs of the working class , and the assurance that things were in working order at a time of deprivation.  A hearty meal for both horse and man, eaten quickly, provided jet fuel for hard work.  Possibly the more publicly flatulent , either horse or man were what the jingle writer considered both unrestrained and therefore more " gung ho" in capability. Such an advantage in a hired man should be considered.
       The volume  of intestinal gas is increased with a high carbohydrate diet as would be expected in pioneer days. Moreover the  "poor man's food " of Brassicaceae and beans would have further contributed to this gas.  There is, when investigated, a high correlation of intestinal gas and caloric intake.  Mean total volume of intestinal gas produced in a day in a healthy adult averages 705 ml. and this includes both bolus gas  (swallowed air),  and gas from colonic fermentation. Bolus gas would be increased considerably in the  trencherman.  The speed with which the trencherman " fueled up " on these foods increased the air swallowing,  somewhat therefore reduced the percentage of colonic fermentation gas,  and made the emissions more fragrant.
        The daily and nightly  rate of emission of flatus was variable but enhanced  by heavy ploughing  and digging, as the horse and man toiled in the soil in those pioneer days, Photos of of pioneer days often reveal a sturdy obesity in the hired man that bespeaks strength and serves as a base of reserve  when horse and man enter stages 6 and 7 which leave one atrophied.  *   Obesity sort of getting a head start in life's race. Low carbohydrate diets  associated with high fibre  meals reduce flatulence considerably but at the expense of energy;  not desirable in the case of a hired man.
           There was little or no mechanization in the farm on those days,  One couldn't work to advantage on the farm without the hired man and the horse,  both running on all cylinders. It's just no surprise the horse and man lived in their own quarters, apart from the rest.

          * As  You Like It  Act 2 Scene 7