invasion of the green smoothies

I just ate a head of Romaine lettuce.  SHOCKER.  But hang on—yesterday I had a bunch of kale, and the day before, an entire bunch of CHARD.  Go ahead and fall over.  I’ll get the smelling salts.

Clearly I have turned to the dark side.

I have previously mentioned my Iron Man drink, and, well, I suppose this is just an extension of that, but I’ve started drinking green smoothies for breakfast.  I’ve got Sophie and Paul in on it, too, although Luc sits at a safe distance and mocks us while eating his bowl of Honey Os. If it’s a disease, we’ve all got it, all of us but Luc—he’s always had the strongest immune system.  I’ve just been so tired, and I’ve got this perpetual runny nose since the weather started getting colder and I can’t stand it.  So, thought I, maybe I should eat better.  Maybe if I ate some greens.

NOOOOOOOOOOOO!

But, no, really, green smoothies are cool.  Basically, you grind up a bunch of some kind of greens, plus some fruit—apples, bananas, pears, berries, whatever—in a blender.  The resulting slurry is bright green in color, but tastes like fruit.  It’s basically an end run around your taste buds.  Because greens are disgusting, and I stand by that.

Seriously, if you do it right, you can’t taste the spinach, kale, parsley, lettuce, or grass-clippings, at all.  It’s a freaking miracle.   Another miracle is that it just so happens that twenty years ago I came into a Vita-Mix, sort of the Cadillac of blenders—I think the new ones are four or five hundred bucks, holy shit—and here I happen to have one lying around.  It’s super powerful so it busts open the cell-walls of the greens or something insane like that.  All I know is that it’s really loud.  And it makes great smoothies.  Of which I have made many, over the years, only never with greens.  Until now.

The only problem: produce is FREAKING EXPENSIVE.  Jesus, why can’t I eat government subsidized corn and wheat products for pennies compared to what it costs to pick up a bunch of dinosaur kale?  We’re going to try the farmer’s market next Saturday….

The first day Paul got up and saw me drinking this glass of green stuff, he stopped still and said, “Who are you and what have you done with my wife?”

This morning he said, “Woman, where is my smoothie?”

I dreamed last night that there weren’t any goats in the goat yard.  Instead there was a huge, beautiful garden out there, full of brilliant flowers and greens.

What will become of us?