again with the raw milk

over thanksgiving i got mixed up and forgot to order milk from our farm. i call it our farm because even though it does not belong to us we feel connected to it in a way that we cannot explain. it feeds us and our kids. we love it. we love the milk, the meat, the sprouted granola, we love that the girls don't get sick. period.
so i forgot to order it and had to get low-temp pasteurized milk from mom's organic market, a place we love.

but amelie was not fooled.

-mommy, this is not raw milk. this is not farm milk.

yeesh.

so we picked up more milk (and meat and smoked turkey leg, omg, delish) yesterday. and the drop off spot is the home of a person who leaves books for folks who stop by for pickups. the books are either free or really cheap.*

so now amelie is drinking her beloved raw farm milk. she begged the whole way home for me to open it.

i am thankful that we know, for the first time in our lives, where the hell our milk comes from. that it improves our health. that it tastes like milk should taste. that something so simple could be so good.

also, i keep telling everyone about this, but in case you missed it, here's another glimpse into the raw milk world.

*and

here's the book i picked up yesterday