No Tomfoolery.

No Substitutions!

As my last post indicated, we have been slogging for quite some time. Trying to write while you are out of your mind with worry is- for me, pretty much impossible. It seemed like everything that could go wrong was either already off the rails or going there in a hurry. Which doesn't typically make for fun-filled reading.

 If there's a bunch of trauma and turmoil, it needs happiness at the end to make it worthwhile for the reader.  While I admit, happiness has been in short supply, at least we are working our way back to a point where every day is relatively normal. Knock on wood!

So we have spent the last three months cleaning up the shambles the renters made of our house, getting back into routines after the move, and dealing with the reality of living and staying Paleo- on a rapidly diminishing budget, while we both looked for jobs.

The good part is, I love my revamped home, particularly the kitchen. We are eating out a lot less, and we are a lot more active. SG has gone from 60/40 to 80/20 Paleo, and immediately lost his seasonal allergies and a good portion of his spare tire. He's heading back into the military, to get his retirement in 6 years, and get into a field that I know he will be great at!

Since the scale is still packed away somewhere, I hesitate to make any wild claims about my personal situation, but I have noticed that my own tummy seems to be flattening out a bit, my hormones are calming down (I think all that stress did a number on me), and my face is not as puffy. And I have a promising-looking job interview tomorrow. Hooray!

The bad part: when you are faced with little money coming in, working full-time on remodeling your own house, dealing with insane tenants who claim that they cleaned, so they want their entire security deposit back, and carrying a property that isn't selling, you have to take a look at your rapidly shrinking bank account and decide that something's gotta give. Which leads me to the chicken.

Confession time: We'd stockpiled a freezer full of pastured stuff from Tara Firma Farms, which we brought with us when we moved. But as of a couple of weeks ago, we'd reached the end of it, and were at Costco. And we needed chicken.

Now, they have good quality chickens at Costco. We've bought the organic ones from them before. But they are at least double the price of Foster Farms. After a lot of hemming and hawing, I decided it was time to suck it up, and get the "regular" chicken. And yes, I felt guilty.

Yesterday, I did my usual thing: Crockpot "roasted" chicken. I used all the same seasonings. And yet...

It just wasn't the same. I know the chicken hadn't gone bad, but what typically is a delicious roast chicken odor was underlaid with something- off. And eating it was off too: it seemed really bland, but gamy. And there was a staggering amount of fat in the bottom of the crock. I thought I was just being a weirdo, until SG commented: "Don't take this personally, but did you do something different to the chicken? It tasted a little weird."

I think we've been converted.  We'll just eat less meat, but the better quality stuff.