So I have to be honest. Since I had Drew, I have changed a LOT.
Besides the completely obvious lifestyle changes I have gone through like lack of sleep and the inability to wear anything but workout pants, I also find myself being extremely anal when it comes to the food that we buy and eat in our home and in restaurants. I check labels, try to limit the amount of processed food in the house and tend to make a lot of things now from scratch.
When we moved up to P-town, it got even better(worse?). We are so lucky to be blessed with such an abundance of farms and dairies and fresh produce that it’s actually very easy to eat well. It’s very easy to turn up my nose at meat that isn’t sustainably farmed or organic and it’s very convenient to go pick up my box of meat, eggs and veggies from the farm.
My poor friends who have come up here have been privy/subjected to my diatribes on the importance of buying local. On the importance of knowing where their food comes from (HELLO EGG RECALL), on the importance of buying from people who respect their animals and respect the consumers of those animals…
Ok, I’ll get off the soapbox. But suffice it to say, it has become a very big issue in our house. And it has become a lifestyle change that I am excited to teach my son about.
I am extremely impressed with how well the hubby has taken all of this. He respects my decision to be particular about our food and because I am the primary caregiver/short order cook to the boogie and most-of-the-time caretaker of the ol’ homestead, he doesn’t question it. To be honest, the removal of processed food in our house hasn’t been a huge problem, especially now that I’m big on the natural things, like BUTTER AND BACON.
But I fear that I may have taken it a step too far. After watching a fascinating spot on the evening news about people in urban areas keeping backyard chickens, I thought… well hell, we have a quarter of an acre back here… why shouldn’t WE raise chickens???? I could see myself, out there very morning, throwing food to my chickens while I sang a little song and had Disney-esque birds mowing the yard and mice cleaning up the kitchen…
I even broached the topic with the hubby and a friend when she was over. And while she was excited about the prospect, the look I got from the hubby was… priceless. He didn’t laugh, or tease, or tell me no… he just looked at me like… ooooookay crazy hippie chicken lady… like you don’t have ENOUGH to do???
I have to say, after thinking about it a little bit longer… he’s kind of right. We have a toddler. We have a new house. We could BARELY get a vegetable garden together this year. We haven’t even managed to get the composter together yet. There is a list of things to do that seems to get longer every day. Somehow I don’t think that introducing four new critters to our backyard is a great idea, even if they do mean fresh eggs…
So for now, I will continue to drive to the farm, get my eggs and meat and veggies, dreaming of the day when I can have chickens of my own… not to mention a legion of woodland creatures to clean my house.