This is a safe place, right? No judgement here. It’s okay to share one’s shortcomings. And failures. And lack of follow-through.
You may remember that this all started with A Big Glass of Juice. The juice, or rather the pulp that remains after chugging a vitamin-rich serving of liquid fruits and vegetables, became the connection between the garden and the house here. The realization that the pulp could go back into the garden after it was turned into rich compost by the worms. And that the pulp could further nourish us by feeding chickens who lay rich eggs.
Except that somewhere in between wedding planning and working and traveling and gatherings with friends and life in general, my juicer stopped producing juice.
See what I did there? I shifted blame to the juicer.
Okay, it was me. I stopped juicing.
This has happened to me before. And I’m sure it will happen again. But what I’m always surprised by is the force with which my body remembers just what it’s been missing when I get back in the game.
For the past two weeks, I’ve once again started my mornings with A Big Glass of Juice. I feel more awake. And energized. And capable. And satisfied. I squashed the first hints of an oncoming cold. And I feel like my body isn’t spending the day constantly searching for nutrients.
This week it’s been chard, an apple, half a lemon. A couple carrots, celery stalks and a chunk of fresh ginger. And guess what? The juicer doesn’t care that it was sitting silent for months. It doesn’t even care that I tried to blame it for my lack of juicing.
I get juice. The chickens get the rest. And everyone around here is happy as can be.