Dear George.
My candle is flickering badly and may soon burn out. Before it does, I want to tell you a little about how the folk here about manage to live in these hills.
For a long time past people here have been using wood for fuel and other purposes. As a result, many of the hills have very few trees and not much other water absorbing soil holding vegetation. So, when the heavy rains fall, the soil washes down and deep scars are cut into the hillside. This is called erosion. If allowed to continue, like in the badlands of Arizona,, Texas, and other southwestern states, the country soon becomes barren and any rain produces torrents which dry up quickly leaving the land, in spite of sometimes a heavy annual rain fall, a desert waste.
The Chinese had solved this problem of soil erosion by forming dams across the ravines. As the soil washes down with the water, these dams catch and hold both. The soil gradually settles out and the water seeps thru the earth from dam to dam. Now when you look at these hills and mountains, you see giant stair cases up their sides growing rice. These make excellent rice paddies because they flood at the right time and the clay soil holds the water long enough to make rice growing possible.
This is harvest time now. Here people cut the rice as our other friends did with a sickle. However, their method of separating the rice from the straw differs. After the rice is cut and dried so it separates from the stalk easily, they place a huge basket, bigger than our galvanized iron swimming pool in Woodcliff Lake, in the field. It is shaped like a soup dish. The sheaves are then pounded on the lip and side of the basket until the grains of rice have fallen in. The rice and chaff is then scooped out and slowly poured back in from a fair height allowing the wind to blow the light chaff away.
Well, George dear, I hope you keep Ninny happy being good and obedient. Hug and kiss my darlings for me.
Love, Dad.
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