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“I love my life”.

July 17, 2010

One of the neat features about this WordPress site is that it tells you when other people have linked it to something they wrote on the web. Someone in Italy liked that I blogged about Jon’s pizza oven, for example, and linked it to some Italian website that I can’t read. WordPress is great that way.

Today, I noticed that someone linked this website to their own personal blog. I couldn’t tell who it was at first, but I liked her easy writing style. Also, she was writing about food, which sucks me in every time. But then she went on to talk about the crazy gravel road that comes up to the Dirtbox, and how her kids like how it makes them bounce around in the back seat, and that they love the snap peas they’ve been getting. And then she went on to say something that sort of made me tear up a little….

She wrote, “I must admit: I really do love my life.” 

What happened next is that I spent the rest of the day thinking about how profound this statement is. In this time of oil spills, economic recessions, war, racism and the evil Monsanto empire … that someone can just be happy? How impactful is this? You just don’t hear people say that very often. That eating simple food, taking joy in simple pleasures, enjoying our loved ones, just reading these words made me reflect on how grateful I feel about my own life. Especially lately, since embarking on this CSA journey full-time (thanks to all of you). Tonight, as I found myself in a lavender field as the sun was going down, gathering flowers for the kind of people who say things like, “I love my life”, I just couldn’t help but feel ridiculously happy.  So, thanks for that.

One Comment leave one →
  1. Cat permalink
    July 22, 2010 3:27 pm

    It’s the happy chicken eggs. It’s contagious. Start with a chicken, change your outlook. New slogan?

    Anyway, I was sitting at home this morning, having a real breakfast instead of a quick bowl of cereal before rushing out to the gym and I thought to myself, this is the POINT of food. You’ll see what I mean in a minute.
    When I was in grade school and high school, (ok, since before then), my Dad would get up early and make me breakfast before school. Not one single time in my school years did I walk out of the house with a poptart in my hand (shudder). It is why I am a successful human being now. Or one of the reasons. On extra special occasions, I’d get lucky enough to get Eggie in a Cup (Scot will roll his eyes here, thinks it’s a pain in the ass way to eat eggs. I say NAY!)

    Here’s whatcha do. It is the technique that counts:

    Stick a few happy chicken eggs in a small saucepan, and just cover them with cold water (cold…don’t cheat).
    Put ’em on the burner on high and stay in the kitchen. As soon as they come to a rolling boil (not simmer people, don’t cheat), start a timer for 3 minutes (exactly 3).
    While you’re waiting, toast some toast and butter it (Don’t you Smart Balance me, I’m watching you, this is about Food, not cholesterol).
    When the timer rings, take the whole pan and stick it under a cold faucet for like 10 seconds (to stop the cooking).
    Get yourself organized with a big mug (or small bowl if you hate fun) and your toast. You need a butter knife too.
    Hold your eggie in your hand, and give it one good whack at it’s waist with the butter knife, so in effect you cut it in half. Proceed with purpose and no hesitation and you won’t make a mess.
    Open up your halved eggie (it should be just like a poached egg…firm white, runny yolk) and use your knife to carefully scoop out everything in the shell into your big mug. Repeat for the rest of your eggies. So that’s the part that’s a little tricky. Sure it helps if your dear ol’ Dad does it for ya, but it’s a beautiful thing if you can get the hang of it yourself. Right of passage? What?
    Use your knife to chop up the eggie (now in a cup) into little pieces, add salt and pepper (and maybe a little butter if you wandered off and accidentally overcooked them a little).
    Next step, very important, pinch off little toast pieces and in they go, (save a hand sized piece of toast to mop up later). Mix ‘er up with your knife (that clinking sound is very reminiscent).
    Eat it up. Ponder things like brain food, the love of a parent, and how great it is that you don’t have to go to school
    Use your leftover toast (works best if it’s a little soggy and thereby flexible) to wipe out the cup.

    So, now I return to my point. Food should be a social experience, even if you’re alone with your cats. Eggie in a cup reminds me of when I was little and Daddy made breakfast. THAT is Food. It’s like eating breakfast with my family, however many miles away they are. It nourishes your body, your mind, your soul(?).

    I’m ready to attack the day, are you?

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