I am fighting the guilt...the past couple of days have been so basic I know. But I have had waterbottles sitting on my counter for a couple of weeks waiting to be refilled, and I rush through and maybe fill one and tear through it so fast in my pregnant dehydrated state, and never have the patience to fill them all, and don't want to open any new ones because I have these to refill (Note on refilling: filling with filtered water is usually done from my fridge because it has the smallest "stream" and is already cold, but it takes a lot of leaning over staring at the crumbs on the carpet and waiting waiting waiting). I know #1 plastic is not to be used over and over ideally, but as long as I watch them not being in a hot car or going in the dishwasher, I think it's okay until one gets a significant dent that keeps it from standing up. Then I recycle it. I don't have a regular "water bottle habit" where I pop open a new one each day or week; they are usually acquired in random ways, slowly over time. But as fascinating as this topic is, I find it necessary to expound even more. I grow attached to certain ones, and finding the dented one that is causing them all to fall over like bowling pins can sometimes be sad. "Oh, the Dasani one. That has a good top, not so thin that you can barely screw it back on again" (I know, they're conserving plastic at least). Well, it had a good life. But here's my big step for the day: For our trip to Chicago, I filled the graveyard of empty ones ALL up to the brim. Nice cold, abundant, refreshing water--luxurious and plentiful. We drank them ALL dry in the van. But I am parched. Going to get some now.
I'm Bekah. I like Jesus. I like birth. I like talking about health, nutrition, theology, and sometimes politicks. I like life. I like wholesome foods and goofy people. I like music and books and homeschooling. I like dreaming about our future farm. I like my husband. I like my 3 kiddos. I like you being here. Thanks for reading!