The Queen and the Hippie

I'm not sure, but I think I may be becoming a hippie. Or at least a closet hippie. Maybe I'm a product of the increasing (albeit still a small contingency) American attitude shift from consumer to the eco-conscious. The potential has been there, I mean, I've been washing out Ziploc bags since we've been married and Bill's mom's family (I mean this in the BEST way) does tend toward recycling and composting and eating a lot of vegetables, at least more than most people we know. So here is the evidence and you may share your verdict if you desire:

As stated before, I wash out Ziploc bags, people. Anything larger than a sandwich bag, that is. And plastic silverware.

Our recycling bin overflows more often than our trash can, despite the disposable diapers we use (points against hippie there.)

We grow our own tomatoes. Big deal, so does everyone else, less e.coli that way.

I go to farmer's markets for produce or buy local and sometimes even (gasp) organic!

We use the air conditioning in the house very sparingly. Hippie or self torture?

I admit to having walked to the grocery store with Reina in a stroller. The poor bagger guy didn't know what to think when I gave him my canvas bags and told him I didn't need help to the car! The bike path by our house now gives us access to all the new shopping and restaurants in the area. We feel better about our ice cream when we walk to get it.

To make up for the ice cream, I've been cooking with whole grain and swiss chard.

I drive a gas guzzling SUV. What? How did that one get in there? At least its a Honda! And I don't drive it that often...now that there's a bike path.

Ok, enough about the hippie. My personal hygiene hasn't slipped much (ask me in March) and to round out the stereotype, I don't partake in herbal recreation.

Let's talk about the QUEEN. For some reason, she has been really embracing her royal persona, to the extent that she occasionally will speak with a British accent. Case in point. See some bits of paper on the floor? The Queen will inform you it is "trosh" and must be disposed of. She loves to take "woks" in her stroller and will point out the "roks" along the way. When it is time to clean up toys, she'll ask if they need to go "bok" to where they belong. I guess she is just trying to distinguish herself as a lady of refinement, she hasn't taken to calling me "mummy" yet.

And now for the pictures.

This artist prefers a chewed up, wrapper less purple half-crayon above all others when she "cowies" (colors?) On "peepa" only, please, never on walls.

She does like to throw all the other crayons out of the bag before finding her precious purple.

art is tiring

so is a late night baseball game with Gina-mom

it's good to be the queen