One day I asked my computer what could be done with pine needles, and it returned with pine needle baskets. Why? Why do this? The worldly folk asked. I said unto them, “I could speak in parables; I could tell thee that lime sprinkled on a cow’s brown, earthy deposits prevents it from smelling so putrid in the barn’s trough; I could tell thee the squirrel prefers to collect the seeds of the domesticated, bird-feeder’d sun flower to the wild acorn. In plain terms, I fucking want to and it makes things just a little better.