Sunday

 

One of my favorite things to do is prep and store food. I could scrub, wash, peel, chop, and vacuum seal fruit and vegetables all day if I had the opportunity. It’s almost therapeutic for me. I think about all the blessings in my life and one of them is food.

I’ve mentioned before how I have allergies and sensitivities to food. It makes it difficult sometimes, but it’s a blessing in disguise in that I have to eat real. I went from reading labels on packaged food and feeling discouraged to feeling empowered. As time has gone by, my allergies aren’t as sensitive. I can eat most anything, besides corn, in moderation: ice cream here and some bread there. The more I have wheat, corn and dairy in my diet, the stronger the effects are which is why I try and stay away from them most of the time. But real food, now that’s another story.

Knowing where my food came from, what’s in it, and knowing that I have it is the best feeling. It’s like a full tank of gas, knowing you don’t have to wake up early the next day, and when you hear your husband about to walk into the door. It’s special. Food deserves to be treated with respect, not boiled down and preserved to last a year on the shelf.

After church, Sunday was partly spent roasting peanuts and sunflower seeds. Packaged peanuts usually contain an anti-caking agent which is usually cornstarch. Sunflower seeds are just so easy to roast I refuse to buy them, plus they taste better without the salt. Not to mention they smell like popcorn, heavenly!

The other part was spent cleaning and organizing. Brad went on a Mr. Clean tangent and I just wanted a nap the dishes done. Once he gets started he just can’t stop. He made me a little shelf next to the bed, since I sleep against the wall I always hand him things while he’s reading in bed. If I don’t take my earrings off and lose them in the couch cushions, then I forget when already in bed and hand them to him, or when I am done with my cuticle oil he’ll have to set those things on the nightstand for me.

He’s all gentleman-like.

He hung frames, and shined his shoes. He turned on Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, and we made potato bacon soup. That’s my Bradley, and our Sunday.