The Dirty Hippie I always wanted to be...

I am not one to post my "gratitude" online or in a blog.  I am often very grateful and feel very fortunate for what I have and the life I'm living.  Every birthday, I am grateful to have made it to that age.  I survived mental illness that usually plague young 20 year olds. Hell, I survived childhood and all of the crazy things we did like rafting in flooded streams.   I haven't gotten cancer (yet) and I'm not taking a single prescription drug.  Not one.  I have roof over my head.  I have enough food in my fridge and I feel loved. It's not perfect and there is definitely room for improvement but it's a fantastic place to be.  And I know how fortunate I am.

Last night while cooking, after having put away all of our groceries from Sunday shopping, I realized I've become the dirty hippie I've always wanted to be.  A bright modern kitchen, with matching appliances, organized spices and clearly labeled, packaged things never appeal to me.  I have a bright kitchen but my spices are bought in bulk, refilling glasses containers, sometimes with their name on them and sometime indicated by a rubber band or just a hunch.  We gave many have different oils and vinegars - and even our own homemade apple cider vinegar. Some very well known products like Hersey's coco powder and Morton's salt take up real estate as do obscure baggies tied closed with twist ties with illegible numbers or words scratched on them.  There is organic, ground peanut butter, local and exotic honeys, generic store brand cooking spray, shade grown coffee next to end of season sale Starbucks.  A pestle and mortar that is begging to be used.

The tiny bit of chaos that creates and flavors all of the homemade (following a recipe) meals in this house make me so happy. It's the person I wanted to be growing up.  A little bit salt of the earth.  Very environmentally aware, deliberate and conscious.  And I love it.