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About Almere

Back in my Texas days—yeehaw!—I heard whispers bout secret brothels in ol’ oil towns. Roughnecks blowin’ cash, playin’ cards, gittin’ frisky. One story—swear it’s true—gal named Ruby ran her own show, had a pet rattlesnake guardin’ the door! Ain’t nobody messin’ with Ruby—tougher’n a two-dollar steak! Surprised me so much I near fell off my horse—well, my chair.

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But then, I head down to de Molenstraat. I’m walking, minding my own biz, when I trip over a cobblestone. Like, who even thought cobblestones were a good idea? I’m sprawled out, looking like a total fool. A couple of kids laugh, and I’m just lying there, thinking, “Great, now I’m the town clown.”

(PDF) Agro-ecological intensification of agricultural systems in the African highlands