They are collectors and disseminators. At least good ones are.
It’s give and take. I ask, he answers; he asks, I answer. He knows my neighbors, both likable and not. That takes care of him, so I set forth my agenda.
Those dry bales, for instance. Is it as bad as it seems for the local farmers? Seed prices, we both knew about; the bales, I was deficient. He, on the other hand, runs heads other than those of his customers.
—They make a patty is about all.
—Yeah, I figured, but why feed it then?
—Gives ‘em somethin’ to chew on this winter in the eastern ranges, Roughage between feedings of the good stuff. Otherwise, they’re sqirtin’ like they do on grass. Hey, you wanna see an Obama joke?
—You know that I’m a bleeding heart, right?
Of course he does, given that my hair is 1/30 the length it was year ago.
—Yeah, but you might get a laugh.
So I read it. The crux was about types of manure.
Contrivances are not always reliable as metaphors, and therefore may not be conducive to discussion. That leaves being receptive to only what we want to hear. It’s better to not take any of it/them at face value.
I guess that’s why I like the idea of composting those bales.