So, it’s been a LONG TIME since I wrote. Not that I didn’t have anything to talk about, its just that ideas, time, and a functional brain didn’t really come together at the same time…. (BE GLAD YOU ARE NOT ME…)
So, here I am blogging again. BUT, rather than catching you up on all the cool things happening around the Roost, or with LOCAL FOODS, I’m going to rant (isn’t that really why we blog?????)
I went to the farmers market today. The LOCAL market, 2 minutes from my house where I have been selling stuff to my neighbors for the past three months. The INSPECTOR ( cue Inspector Gadget Music…) showed up as I was setting up my table. He wanted to look at my labels. Not my products, just the labels. My labels tell who I am, where I am located, and how to contact me. My signs tell buyers that the products are home made and what they are and what is in them.
I didn’t pass inspection, and I was asked to leave. (he said I could stay and sell my 5 bags of greens, but not my bread, but IF he had seen that the bags were closed, he would have fined me for not having processed them in a licenced facility. Been down that road before… I went home. It is 96 degrees F and 100% humidity… greens will not hold for 4 hours in an open container.)
So, I’ve come home. I’ll fix my labels, and be back next week.
On my way home I stopped at the local store for some wine (seemed like a good idea…) They sell bread, but no one there could tell me what was in it, who made it, when it was made, where it was made, or anything about it other than “read the label, and it costs $1.95 a loaf.” I don’t know how that is safer than my neighbors buying bread from me, knowing where I live, how to get in touch with me, what I put in the bread, when it was made, etc.
I don’t blame the drone at the bottom who showed up to inspect. He was just doing his job and trying to survive in the hive. I am frustrated that we keep throwing money into such a STUPID system.
I’ve formed a group to work on local food issues. We are doing LOTS. It is a slow process, but we are moving. I’m spitting nails, throwing stuff, mad that Big Brother is treading on our progress.