Alternate working title: “Pass me that hamburger”
As I mentioned, day 2 brought a good deal of relief from the blinding migraine that caused me to ponder how best to chop off my own head. But I was tested throughout the day.
Oh, how I was tested.
I felt good enough to brave attending church. With Jensen in tow. We cannot leave him in Sunday School because he will rip his own hands to shreds because of his atopic dermatitis, so he sits with us. Generally we take up space out in the foyer, which is nicely equipped with tables, chairs, and monitors so that we can watch the service. This way Jensen can draw to his hearts content, we can listen to the message, and no one is really all that bothered should he spontaneously fall to the floor for no good reason while speaking IN ALL CAPS.
Because timing is everything, and because it was Palm Sunday, our church offered communion at the end of service. I realized that because I was on a juice fast, I could not partake of the communion wafer or the teeny tiny thimble of grape juice (even though it was, well, juice). My juice has to come from freshly squished (mostly organic) fruits and vegetables.
When the usher came over to our table I politely put my hand up and said, “no thank you” and he steered himself in another direction. Immediately it occurred to me. He’s going to think I waved off communion BECAUSE I’M A HEATHEN. A SINNER UNWORTHY OF COMMUNION.
I thought about chasing him down and explaining in great detail my entire life story, but Fiddledaddy reminded me that HE WOULD ALSO THINK I’M CRAZY. And besides, communion really was created for the sinners, and, well, I SHOULD BE AT THE FRONT OF THE LINE. If I wasn’t on a juice fast.
Have I mentioned that one of the small pitfalls of a juice fast and, well, being ME, involves COMPLETELY IRRATIONAL THINKING?
The day went on, and then it was time for our small group meeting. We meet with 3 other homeschooling families twice monthly for a meal, fellowship, an occasional lesson, prayer, and much laughter. These are some of my dearest people, and I always look forward to our time together.
Another problem arises on a juice fast when you a) have to cook for the other people you live with, and b) have to attend a social function bearing gifts of food.
I’m one of those cooks that doesn’t pay a lot of attention to directions, and rarely measure. I go by my own sense of taste. Which now eludes me. I was to make the cole slaw. No one in my house could taste test it for me because the children all have a heightened gag reflex when it comes to anything SLAW in nature.
So I had to wing it. And I’m happy to report that no one died needlessly.
And what luck, the fare at the dinner included HAMBURGERS and HOTDOGS on the grill. Oh. AND BIRTHDAY CAKE to celebrate two birthdays. I’m from the south, y’all. I never met a piece of cake that I didn’t like. Much less my feelings about what comes off of a barbecue.
And yet, Fiddledaddy and I both sat and drank our delicious green concoctions, while extolling the virtues of juicing. Contemplating adding a shot of vodka to the mix.
It was a test. I passed. And lived to tell the tale.
Day 3 did not go as well. More to come.