Juice-making: A Reflection
Well, it's that time of year again. The sun is high in the summer sky, the chicken kabobs are outside grilling, and the smell of sunscreen and chlorine are floating off my skin as I smell my armpits to check if I need to shower or not. And I am craving juice. So, a few hours ago I trotted down the cool basement stairs to find my favorite $6 Salvation Army find: a Hamilton Beach home juicer (by far the best ever "AS IS" thrift store gamble that I've ever made). I washed it off, turned it on, and started making some fresh juice. Three hours later, I think I should be good on juice for... basically forever, actually. But as it turns out, after three hours of being home alone on a Friday night, dancing around your kitchen to OneRepublic and telling your speaker, "Alexa, VOLUME UP!", you tend to get pretty introspective. I think it's because the repetitive motion of chopping apples and shoving them into the top hole of the juicer brings back all the memori...