(source)My three best friends from college and I have been emailing back and forth about starting a cohort farming system in Virginia. This stems from our secret desire to be hippies, live off the land, get out of the rat race, grow our own food and let our (future) children run around the compound naked. I also want dreads, but that's another story. This blog happens to be about my hippie-issue with incense.
Anyways, on our honeymoon our resort left us incense in our bathroom. I know, super romantic. We used it and liked it, the candlewood smell and all. Right after we moved to Lubbock Seth bought me some "earth" scented incense on a run to Target (the mecca of hippie goods...ha ha), unfortunately, I didn't have an incense holder. Until this morning the sticks have simply been smelling up my cupboards. This morning I happened to find an incense holder at the grocery for $1.29. I camp home and promptly set up my incense, even before I put the chicken breasts in the freezer. Well, the issue started when I accidentally blew the ash on to my tablecloth. Then, I tried to wipe it off onto my hand, which just proceeded to rub the ash into the tablecloth. Now I just have to wash the tablecloth, which doesn't seem like a very hippie thing to do. Maybe next time I'll get it right.
On my next "confessions" blog post I'll talk about my latest green hair washing adventure.