Meeting an icon

I met Joel Salatin.  I leaned back on a sweet smelling hay bale on the ground near a tractor tire rim firepit full of apple wood smoking embers  and listened to a talk he gave on Sunday at the Pawpaw Festival.  I took copious notes.


I met Joel Salatin. I bought one of his books ( the only one left on the table – thank goodness I got straight in line!!!), and he signed it. He wrote a message just to me in the book.


I’m not sure you’re getting what I’m saying. I met Joel Salatin.



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