Very Recent History: Farming Is No Vacation

22 Jan

“Vacation” means different things to different people at different times in their lives.  To me, right now, it apparently means leaving my own couch and living room and traveling 1200 miles to sit on my mom’s couch in her living room.  (My dad has his own living room for a few months, and no, he’s not in trouble.)  Some people use the word “vacation” when they’re talking about beaches or Vegas but I’m not really sure what the deal is there.

The house I grew up in now has motion-sensor night lights (nightlights?) everywhere.  Getting a glass of water at 2am feels like trying to bust outta Folsom.
prison break
Too bad you didn’t think of this when I was in high school, Mom & Dad!  Then I wouldn’t have this kid.  Such a shame, babies having babies.  (Not really, I only snuck out at night to get Doritos.  The baby didn’t show up until I was 31 (but I totally still get carded).  But rigging your house with motion sensors?  Take note, parents.)

Also not a vacation?  Farming.  I visited one with a friend who is trying to clean up what her family eats.  I’m interested in this also, and she and I have similar challenges in feeding our husbands for less than what the average university spends to stock the dining hall.  Buying directly from a farm might not be the solution, though… I bought an 18-dollar chicken.  Whoops.

Update: I haven’t washed my face in 15 days.  I didn’t bring face wash on my trip because I knew that coconut oil would be easy to come by and it would give me a chance to really give the oil thing a shot.  I feel like my skin is extra dry, actually, but haven’t had any trouble other than that.  Weird!

My next project with this little guy: coconut kefir.  Good AND good for you!

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