Breakfast time
Rarely does my breakfast inspire philosophical reflection, and if it does, it's certainly not worthy of a blog entry. Today might just be the exception.
I got up this morning, and after rangling some laundry, I sat down to a delicious bowl of homemade granola and a cup of red raspberry leaf tea.
I stared at my food and recalled a conversation I had had with my mother on the phone just last night. When discussing some of my views on birth (a topic worthy of it's own post: coming soon!), she casually mentioned how I might come off as "granola" to some. I laughed; it's not a term I shy away from entirely.
As I began to feast this morning, my inveterate nerdiness, or at least Internet addiction, made me just have to look it up on Wikipedia. The description of the adjectival form of "granola" left me unsatisfied, however.
"'Granola'" is also used as a slang term (metonym) describing a person who is hippie-like, a modern bohemian, environmentalist, or leftist in outlook."
I wouldn't exactly consider myself to be a hippie, and in reality my enviromentalism halts at composting and recycling (I even purposely buy incandescent light bulbs because I simply CAN NOT STAND the glare of a CFL.).
Furthermore, although I find certain aspects of the Bohemian lifestyle attractive, I definitely don't think I'm artistic enough (or free-love enough! Yikes!) to be a Bohemian.
So what does my breakfast signify, then?
Enter Rod Dreher, author of a book I am just dying to read.
It's entitled: Crunchy Cons: How Birkenstocked Burkeans, gun-loving organic farmers, evangelical free-range farmers, hip homeschooling mamas, right-wing nature lovers and their diverse tribe of counter-cultural conservatives plan to save America (or at least, the Republican Party).
What more do I need to say?
Eat up!
I got up this morning, and after rangling some laundry, I sat down to a delicious bowl of homemade granola and a cup of red raspberry leaf tea.
I stared at my food and recalled a conversation I had had with my mother on the phone just last night. When discussing some of my views on birth (a topic worthy of it's own post: coming soon!), she casually mentioned how I might come off as "granola" to some. I laughed; it's not a term I shy away from entirely.
As I began to feast this morning, my inveterate nerdiness, or at least Internet addiction, made me just have to look it up on Wikipedia. The description of the adjectival form of "granola" left me unsatisfied, however.
"'Granola'" is also used as a slang term (metonym) describing a person who is hippie-like, a modern bohemian, environmentalist, or leftist in outlook."
I wouldn't exactly consider myself to be a hippie, and in reality my enviromentalism halts at composting and recycling (I even purposely buy incandescent light bulbs because I simply CAN NOT STAND the glare of a CFL.).
Furthermore, although I find certain aspects of the Bohemian lifestyle attractive, I definitely don't think I'm artistic enough (or free-love enough! Yikes!) to be a Bohemian.
So what does my breakfast signify, then?
Enter Rod Dreher, author of a book I am just dying to read.
It's entitled: Crunchy Cons: How Birkenstocked Burkeans, gun-loving organic farmers, evangelical free-range farmers, hip homeschooling mamas, right-wing nature lovers and their diverse tribe of counter-cultural conservatives plan to save America (or at least, the Republican Party).
What more do I need to say?
Eat up!
Barry's Bay did a good job on you! Good on the raspberry leaf tea - work those long muscles. I see Weston Price as an interest on your profile - have you ventured into the land of raw milk yet? I am always teetering on the edge...
ReplyDeleteI love raw milk! I unfortunately don't have any farmers I know around here to get some from. But I am a lover of the stuff and I hope to soon get my hands on a steady supply of it!
ReplyDeleteAnd if Barry's Bay didn't make me a crunchy con, then certainly working at St. Francis Herb Farm did! In fact, there's where I heard of Weston Price Foundation AND red raspberry leaf tea, among other fascinating things.
I forgot about the herb farm; Dave worked there as well for a summer. His dad always joked that dave was one of the few herb employees not to get the bum's rush. Did you notice the high turnover at the farm?? All joking aside, I love their products (esp. Deep Immune which I am drinking at the moment) and I have a supply of raw milk; I just need to get some big pickle jars. I would tell you my supplier but then I would have to kill you...
ReplyDelete