I will be 60 in July. I find myself referring to me as already 60. I'm not sure why. Mental rehearsal? I used to think this was going to be hard, and it may yet still be. But feeling good about it right now!
Can't decide to party or not. Any thoughts?
Some events come back to you vividly. Many years ago I was teaching a small group of 8 year olds and we somehow got on the topic of where water goes when you send it down the drain. This led to toilets and where that all goes. At that time our waste water went directly, untreated, into the harbour - not more than 100 metres from where we were at the time. We could see the harbour out the window.
The looks on their faces will never leave me. It was profound. The horror! The knowledge that adults, trusted people who ruled their worlds - would do such a thing! How could this be so? No politician would have left the room alive. They would have shrivelled in the glare.
Notice how I ignore my role in all this. I tried, but it just makes you think. All the time, at the most inopportune moments. What kind of touch am I leaving on this world?
So I see this short video on Facebook. I try not to fall into those rabbit holes, but I was weak.
It showed the life of a chicken, from egg to store. I raised ducklings with my grade 2 classes, so I have a thing for fluffy hatchlings. Mind you, I do find chicks stupid. Ducklings are intelligent, and they like to sit on your feet while you teach. Love that. So cute. And then they poop.
It was not a horror film designed to send you to nightmare city for the next week or two, but it pushed me over that edge. I don't think I can buy regular chicken anymore. I want happy, free range and naturally unengineered chickens. I'm also thinking that way for meat in general, and less of it all.
I'm not militant. I just want to be aware, and able to look those 8 year olds in the eyes. I am currently finishing off the 'bad' freezer contents. Waste not, after all. DH looked at the price tag on the free range chicken I bought and decided his conscience will allow him to eat the factory chicken after all. That's fine. He knows his way to the store. I can only be responsible for me.
I also checked out a Michael Pollan book from the library. It won't be the page turner the Michael Connolly was, but I shall see where it goes.