What is real health insurance?
A long time ago, I learned the secret from the 'King'...
From the time I was a toddler, Mom and Dad grew a generous quantity of vegetables in a large garden in the corner of the back yard. Every summer, the garden overflowed with vines sporting huge zucchini and summer squash, tomato plants, succulent leaf lettuce, sweet peas, carrots, and string beans.
Time stood still when we tended the garden together. In the beneficent presence of plants, soil, and sky, the pressures of family life lightened and disappeared.
Working the soil with Mom and Dad, I learned to love and respect earthworms, ladybugs, and other beneficial creatures that made their homes among the plants. To this day, I still use care turning the soil, stopping to lift earthworms to safer ground when they surface among clumps of dirt disturbed by my pitchfork.
Through the years, my desire to maintain a close connection with the earth remains strong. Along with a passionate interest in holistic health, my appreciation for the health-giving properties of homegrown produce has deepened.
Years ago, living in an apartment, I yearned to renew the connection with the earth I'd had as a child. I decided to grow vegetables at Mom's house only a few miles away. Besides providing fresh food, an added benefit of the garden was more frequent visits with Mom.
After turning the soil and adding dried manure and peat moss, I planted a variety of vegetables, including summer squash I started from seed. Remembering how Mom's steamed summer squash tasted years ago seasoned with salt and butter, I looked forward to recreating the experience for Mom and me in a couple of months when the plants matured.
Next to the garden was an area for compost, framed by large cinder blocks. Although the garden had lain fallow for years, we still used the compost area to dispose of vegetable wastes. The soil in the compost bin was exceptionally loamy and rich.
The Birth of the 'King'
As my little squash plants grew in the garden, I noticed some some baby squash leaves poking up through the soil right in the middle of the compost pile. I had no idea how the renegade seedling had gotten there, but curiosity made me leave it undisturbed in its new home.
After a month or so, my squash seedlings had developed nice-sized leaves measuring six inches across. But the upstart in the compost pile sported monstrous deep green umbrellas over a foot wide that appeared to be heading for world-record status. With a base stem as thick as my wrist, the mega-plant was well on its way to commandeering its whole eight-by-eight foot square domain.
Just as my regular squash plants were starting to set fruit, I noticed with dismay that their leaves were turning yellow. I added some liquid kelp and fish emulsion to their diet and made sure they had plenty of water, but they just kept fading and wilting.
Luckily, I happened to read an article in a gardening magazine that described 'squash borers,' caterpillars that live inside the stems and eat the pith, eventually killing the whole plant. The most environmentally friendly remedy was to slit the stems with a razor and pull out and destroy the parasites. So I went from plant to plant, slitting stems, and removing and destroying fat, grubby-looking white worms. Ick! This was probably the most stomach-turning garden chore I ever had to do. Fortunately, it saved the plants. They survived to produce a modest crop of tasty yellow fruit.
Long Live the 'King!'
And what became of the upstart in the compost pile? Deep green leaves the size of elephant ears swayed with regal magnificence, shading the whole compost area and spilling over the cinder block walls. Massive, sturdy vines sprouted giant taxi-yellow flowers. An abundance of equally vibrant fruit soon followed. As good-tasting as the squash from the garden were, their quality was far exceeded by of those borne by the 'King of the Compost Pile.' Next to the rich buttery taste of the renegade squash, all other summer squash experiences faded into mediocrity.
Not long after harvest time, great curiosity arose as to whether the 'King' had simply been immune to squash borers, or had actually been infested and thrived in spite of it. Even though I never wanted to look at another one of those grubby white creatures again, in the name of science I determinedly decided to slit some stems and find out. So out to the garden I went with my trusty razor to slit the massive, sturdy dark green stems. Yes, indeed, there they were. The 'King' had effortlessly led an exceptionally healthy life despite the presence of the parasites.
What Can We Learn From the 'King?'
There is a lesson here for all of us, which I'm sure you have already intimated.
We won't necessarily be able to totally rid ourselves of germs, viruses, fungal infections and parasites of all descriptions that are ubiquitous in our environment. Instrumental in determining health is how well we provide for ourselves and our families the awesome quality of nutrition, supplementation, exercise, and emotional health that will hold would-be parasites at bay. With no seeming end to mounting stress, environmental toxicity, and devitalization of most of our foods, we need to be proactive and not leave our health destiny to chance.
We must build health from the inside - knowledgeably, lovingly. Being generous with ourselves and our loved ones in the ways of optimizing health is the most reliable form of health insurance.
There is much that conspires to limit our health independence. Time pressures, self-doubt, confusion as to just what we should do, and worrying what others think sabotages our natural right to be healthy. Add to that the barrage of 'conventional wisdom' parading as fact that tries to convince us that holistic healing is useless. The challenges are many, but the journey is rewarding.
source:Ezinarticles
A long time ago, I learned the secret from the 'King'...
From the time I was a toddler, Mom and Dad grew a generous quantity of vegetables in a large garden in the corner of the back yard. Every summer, the garden overflowed with vines sporting huge zucchini and summer squash, tomato plants, succulent leaf lettuce, sweet peas, carrots, and string beans.
Time stood still when we tended the garden together. In the beneficent presence of plants, soil, and sky, the pressures of family life lightened and disappeared.
Working the soil with Mom and Dad, I learned to love and respect earthworms, ladybugs, and other beneficial creatures that made their homes among the plants. To this day, I still use care turning the soil, stopping to lift earthworms to safer ground when they surface among clumps of dirt disturbed by my pitchfork.
Through the years, my desire to maintain a close connection with the earth remains strong. Along with a passionate interest in holistic health, my appreciation for the health-giving properties of homegrown produce has deepened.
Years ago, living in an apartment, I yearned to renew the connection with the earth I'd had as a child. I decided to grow vegetables at Mom's house only a few miles away. Besides providing fresh food, an added benefit of the garden was more frequent visits with Mom.
After turning the soil and adding dried manure and peat moss, I planted a variety of vegetables, including summer squash I started from seed. Remembering how Mom's steamed summer squash tasted years ago seasoned with salt and butter, I looked forward to recreating the experience for Mom and me in a couple of months when the plants matured.
Next to the garden was an area for compost, framed by large cinder blocks. Although the garden had lain fallow for years, we still used the compost area to dispose of vegetable wastes. The soil in the compost bin was exceptionally loamy and rich.
The Birth of the 'King'
As my little squash plants grew in the garden, I noticed some some baby squash leaves poking up through the soil right in the middle of the compost pile. I had no idea how the renegade seedling had gotten there, but curiosity made me leave it undisturbed in its new home.
After a month or so, my squash seedlings had developed nice-sized leaves measuring six inches across. But the upstart in the compost pile sported monstrous deep green umbrellas over a foot wide that appeared to be heading for world-record status. With a base stem as thick as my wrist, the mega-plant was well on its way to commandeering its whole eight-by-eight foot square domain.
Just as my regular squash plants were starting to set fruit, I noticed with dismay that their leaves were turning yellow. I added some liquid kelp and fish emulsion to their diet and made sure they had plenty of water, but they just kept fading and wilting.
Luckily, I happened to read an article in a gardening magazine that described 'squash borers,' caterpillars that live inside the stems and eat the pith, eventually killing the whole plant. The most environmentally friendly remedy was to slit the stems with a razor and pull out and destroy the parasites. So I went from plant to plant, slitting stems, and removing and destroying fat, grubby-looking white worms. Ick! This was probably the most stomach-turning garden chore I ever had to do. Fortunately, it saved the plants. They survived to produce a modest crop of tasty yellow fruit.
Long Live the 'King!'
And what became of the upstart in the compost pile? Deep green leaves the size of elephant ears swayed with regal magnificence, shading the whole compost area and spilling over the cinder block walls. Massive, sturdy vines sprouted giant taxi-yellow flowers. An abundance of equally vibrant fruit soon followed. As good-tasting as the squash from the garden were, their quality was far exceeded by of those borne by the 'King of the Compost Pile.' Next to the rich buttery taste of the renegade squash, all other summer squash experiences faded into mediocrity.
Not long after harvest time, great curiosity arose as to whether the 'King' had simply been immune to squash borers, or had actually been infested and thrived in spite of it. Even though I never wanted to look at another one of those grubby white creatures again, in the name of science I determinedly decided to slit some stems and find out. So out to the garden I went with my trusty razor to slit the massive, sturdy dark green stems. Yes, indeed, there they were. The 'King' had effortlessly led an exceptionally healthy life despite the presence of the parasites.
What Can We Learn From the 'King?'
There is a lesson here for all of us, which I'm sure you have already intimated.
We won't necessarily be able to totally rid ourselves of germs, viruses, fungal infections and parasites of all descriptions that are ubiquitous in our environment. Instrumental in determining health is how well we provide for ourselves and our families the awesome quality of nutrition, supplementation, exercise, and emotional health that will hold would-be parasites at bay. With no seeming end to mounting stress, environmental toxicity, and devitalization of most of our foods, we need to be proactive and not leave our health destiny to chance.
We must build health from the inside - knowledgeably, lovingly. Being generous with ourselves and our loved ones in the ways of optimizing health is the most reliable form of health insurance.
There is much that conspires to limit our health independence. Time pressures, self-doubt, confusion as to just what we should do, and worrying what others think sabotages our natural right to be healthy. Add to that the barrage of 'conventional wisdom' parading as fact that tries to convince us that holistic healing is useless. The challenges are many, but the journey is rewarding.
source:Ezinarticles
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