As I was carefully cutting away any questionably icky pieces of a boneless skinless chicken breast, I acknowledge that I am very spoiled. I'm not that far removed from going out to the hen house and wringing a neck for dinner (my Grandma did it) but here I am being picky over food.
Not just picky, but wasteful too. I hate raw meat and I have a life long fear of chewing a gristly something that can't be broken down by sharp teeth, so I discard everything on that piece of chicken that might come across as 'ew'. My pile of garbage scraps is embarrassingly large.
I stand in my warm kitchen, with lights and power and cupboards stocked with plenty of food, and I pick and choose the things I will and won't eat and I know I am spoiled.
In the event of a zombie apocalypse, I will have a tough time of it. But until then, I know I am terribly blessed, and I am so very thankful for the sharp knife and the butcher who made my paper wrapped piece of chicken breast a possibility!
This post inspired by prompt #1 at Mama's Losin' It!