Sad but true: there aren’t many farmers in Wyoming, anymore. I went to our once-weekly, two-hour-long farmer’s market on opening day–”buy local,” the signs advertised–and only saw crafts, baked goods, and a few pathetic vegetables. The best stand was operated by Sheridan College, whose students grow produce in the fields where the antelope (literally) roam and even make sausages in their MEAT LAB:

Of course, this being Wyoming, God also put in an appearance:

God apparently is pro-American and pro-organic, although he drives a truck that doesn’t look to be particularly energy-efficient….

Hey, if you’re listening, Almighty One: can you do something about the size of those onions? For a buck, I want at least enough flavoring for a burrito.

If I don’t post for awhile, you’ll know to avoid the Sheridan College Meat Lab. (Common sense for some, unavoidable risk for yours truly. I mean, what looks like the biggest bang for the buck: a handful of limp spinach, or unnameable pig parts, tied up in a fat sac and flash frozen?)

That’s why people use chemicals, folks: to grow pretty fruits and veggies the size of a cutting board, without all those nasty brown spots.

I’ll just attribute the resulting stomach pains to my being smote (smited? smitten?) by the venegeful farmer in the sky.