This whole October Unprocessed thing has been pretty smooth. Sure, it takes more planning, but it is worth it because I have been getting to try all these things that I might never try otherwise. Like vegetable stock or tortillas (tonight my friends, tortillas are going to happen tonight!). I have figured out where to get fresh bread and how to make sure not to buy too much as it goes bad much faster than the stuff that comes packaged in the bags. I have become pretty much an expert at making my own salad dressing (I have a blog post living in my head for that one, so look for it soon). Overall, I feel quite like Ma Ingalls. And that makes me proud.
Then came one of our worst enemies: the head cold.
Last Friday, I came home from work with a list of things I wanted to get done and a bunch of sniffles I didn't want. We were supposed to be heading out for camping that weekend and I was prepared to make sure I didn't loose my challenge. I even had all the ingredients to make homemade Cheez-its for crying out loud! But those darn sniffles kept coming and my body had no energy and my eyes were burning. We all know the feeling, and we all know that it is a bad feeling. So instead of dancing to music in my kitchen, whipping up homemade goodies, I was on the couch, TV volume turned up, eating *gasp* Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup.
I know, I know. The shame of it all.
But it tasted so good. It hit the spot, like Campbell's chicken soup does when you are sick.
I would like to say I thought something like, "Well, this is OK, but if I had made it myself it would have been better..." But that would be a lie. My real thoughts were more like this: "Mmm mmm good."
This day happened to be my husband's birthday and all birthdays need a birthday cake, which of course I was fully prepared to take care of, once again, from scratch. With raw sugar and unbleached flour. All super-unprocessed like.
Yeah... that didn't happen.
Betty Crocker cupcakes complete with blue frosting from a can (think Cheez-Whiz style) happened. You know what? I don't care. I was sick, and unlike Ma Ingalls, I had another option. I am sure she would have been grateful to have a box of Betty Crocker once in awhile, too.