Fresh and gross, but it’s liquid sunshine!

Dear Jessie,

Whew. My ears are still ringing from the whir of my Juiceman. Those limes sure go down with a fight. I’m still on the life juice kick, as I call it. Steph calls it a catalyst for regurgitation. Anyway, three weeks now; the most consistency I’ve shown for anything in a long time, besides wine, insomnia and eye cream. I just turned this

 

into a gallon of bright green frothy liquid that I will dine on every morning for the next week. Depsite the first cracking of the pitcher and being greeted by whiffs of something akin to liquidized mowed lawn, I’ve grown to love my morning jolt of green. I feel like I’m doing something good for myself, for the world, for Steph, and it kind of gives me a buzz. Yeah, I know–it’s freaking juice.

I started this whole thing for Miss I-only-eat-corn-and-broccoli-and-you-better-cook-the-latter-down-into-a-pile-of-unrecognable-green-mush-covered-with-orange-cheese. Now she hides when I break it out, even though I pour it into shot glasses to make it fun like a party. I’m like, I’m gonna find you somewhere in these 800 square feet, and you’re gonna take it, and we’re gonna live forever with no wrinkles and very little sagging. Sadly it remains my jug of life juice, as Steph still prefers Kool-Aid and tater tot casserole to get her going in the morning. Thank God she has an appointment with a nutritionist next week who specializes in breast cancer patients. Sigh.

Dead cucumbers and kale guts,

Britt

 Cheers!