I'm a steelworker*
I was struggling to compose a suitable peroration for the fifth anniversary of this blog when I realized it was actually the sixth anniversary. Man, time flies when you totally don't give a shit. Just kidding: the last year doesn't even count. But don't worry, I still have nothing to say.
Except for the following, composed in your honor at the risk of redundancy.
This is the time of year when it's not only easy to "eat seasonally," it's imperative (your USDA zone may vary). Eating the year's first perfect peach today, I declined to get annoyed at what I'd paid for it (as I'm increasingly prone to do): it was cheaper than a king-size Snickers, and infinitely more satisfying™. Of course it is a banner year for stonefruit, as Russ explained [HEY! HAVE YOU BOUGHT HIS BOOK YET?], and I should point out that the less-than-perfect peach is both profoundly less satisfying™ than a Snickers and more redolent of unflattering financial comparisons.
The point is, peaches are fucking good this year, and so are the olallieberries and figs that comprised the rest of my dinner. Believe me, I want to eat meat and cheese and potatoes, but there isn't enough time. Thus the observation that I could happily be a hunter-gatherer for about one month a year.
* And thus the reference to Big Black's Steelworker above, the lyrics of which turn out to be totally inappropriate to my point, except for the mention of the hunter-gatherer. God, I suck at this whole blogging thing.