Day 193

11 Jul

Well, I fell asleep before 5 yesterday.  You know, because my life is so exciting that my body just shuts down from all the incredible things I do every day.  Jay Kay.  I just go to bed late and get up early.

We’ve gotten about a dozen or so little, delicious, red tomatoes from one of our plants.  Guys, I’m a real-live gardener now.  I have officially grown something and eaten that something I grew.

Okay, I got some water kefir grains from this place the other day, and a friend who makes kombucha offered me a baby SCOBY.  And we’re still talking about getting chickens.  And I want to maybe switch to raw milk and make cheese from it.  Basically, it’s getting homesteady up in here.

But, as all this is still percolating within me and our family’s general consciousness, I also have stopped caring about a lot of this type of thing.  Mainly anything that would or could be called: “natural”; “crunchy”; “traditional”; “real”; “slow”; “organic” with “food” tagged in there or not.  Nope, generally hate it.  I don’t know what it is, but I don’t want to hear another thing about it.  Maybe I’ve simply hit my saturation level and can handle no more new info.  Maybe I’ve just become incredibly cynical in the last few months.  Maybe I’m just a bad person.  But I don’t care.

I want chickens, but I don’t care how nutrient dense their eggs will be.  I want to drink water kefir, but I don’t care about the benefits of fermented drinks in my gut.  I want to make the switch to raw milk, but I don’t want to think about all the helpful enzymes and bacteria in it.

I just don’t want to think so much about my food.  I want to eat it and be well fed, but I don’t want to worry so much.  ‘Cause it ain’t going to save me.  Unfortunately/fortunately.

Plus, sometimes, what if I just love a double croisentwich from Burger King?  What if that’s who I really am?  What?!


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