Eating Animals

It is hard to imagine that two years ago I had never heard the term Battery Cage. That I had never really thought about where my eggs come from. That I had never even really thought about the chicken that I ate. Some would say that I was blissfully ignorant but I find my lack of information incredulous. How was it possible for me to not know how my food was produced? But that was the case. Over the last year and a half I have learned perhaps far more than I ever cared to know. I have learned enough that I plan to never eat meat again. I have learned enough that I'm actively contemplating becoming vegan. And they say that a mind, once expanded, can never return to its original size. I cannot unlearn what I have learned. Nor do I want to.

Over the last year and a half I have read everything I can find on food production, with a focus on animal production. Jonathan Safran Foer's newly released book "Eating Animals" immediately jumped to the top of my list when I heard about it. I asked for the book for my birthday and finally sat down to read it over Thanksgiving. This had to be one of the toughest books I've ever read about any topic. I've read war stories that didn't affect me as much as this very true story of systematic torture. I broke down halfway through and had to put the book down for a while. I've always been sensitive to animal suffering but knowing that this is all true and that this is how the industry is trending makes me angry, disgusted, and sad at the same time.

Foer starts out with a tongue in cheek discussion of eating dog. His arguement is that with dogs we would have a steady stream of good tasty meat. Dogs are plentiful and eaten around the world. And by now you are starting to get angry. We can't eat dogs. We don't eat companion animals. I've mentioned before that companion animals actually have a pretty good life in the US, certainly compared to farm animals. Foer states that pigs are just as smart as dogs, just as loyal. Yet the dogs we invite into our families. The pigs we keep in horrible conditions and slaughter in terrible ways. And pigs have it far better then our feathered friends. Chickens, whether kept for eggs or for meat, are some of the most tortured creatures on the planet. Both their lives and their deaths would make most horror films look tame. And this happens to hundreds of millions of birds every year. And chickens, like dogs, are playful, curious, and social.

Foer tells stories of both animal lives and animal deaths and all are enough to make you ill. He also gives the opposition a chance to speak. His book includes letters from cattle ranchers, factory farmers, along with the more expected letters from animal welfare activists and PETA. The only one he doesn't represent is the Agribusiness executives, mostly because they refused to answer his letters, request for tours, or even inquiries. As Foer points out, shouldn't we get a chance to see where our food comes from. We used to be able to but now that factory farming has become dominant, that is no longer the case. Mostly because the more we know about where our meat comes from and how the animals were treated, the less likely we would be to eat it.

I won't apologize for sounding preachy here. This is something that I feel incredibly strongly about. Although I won't attempt to convert anyone to vegetarianism, I do ask that you think about where your food came from. And think about what animal made that meal possible. Although I will not eat meat again, if the industry does return to more humane lives for its animals I won't begrudge someone for eating it. But with the current state of factory farming, meat production (along with dairy and eggs) is nothing short of torture. And that I can't have on my conscience. I'm currently a vegetarian but after reading this I'm heading towards vegan. I'm also planning other life changes. I won't say this is all because of this book, but the more I read, the more sickened I am. And what I have learned, cannot be unlearned.

A Cure for All My Ailments

What if I would tell you that I have found the one thing that will help me lose weight, improve my mood, keep my anxiety at bay, increase my energy, and lengthen my life expectancy. It's pretty simple. In fact, I learned about it at the ripe old age of 1 year old. It's walking. The first and only thing that I have ever found that takes care of almost all my issues. You would think with all those benefits it would be something that I would be dedicating tons of time to. Yet for some reason I find it tough to get out the door.

Jeff and I went walking this afternoon. We wanted to try out a path that has been built near the house and I loved just getting out into the trees and putting one foot in front of the other. In fact, I'm always happy when I'm walking. I don't remember the last time I took a walk and didn't enjoy myself. Even though I don't really like to walk along busy streets I won't turn it down. My favorite walks though are when I leave the trails. Strap on my hiking boots and step off the beaten path. This picture is from a hike Jeff and I took along the creek near our house. We found all sorts of interesting plant life, spotted a couple of deer, and found our way a couple miles from the house, just following a creek. It was one of my favorite walks.

But I still find it tough to motivate myself. I look out the door and think that it's just too much work to put on my shoes. Or find a coat. And the couch just seems comfier. So I put off going. And then feel lazy and even worse. A simple walk everyday would be all I need to improve my life. Now I just need to get moving. My plan (kind of like a resolution) would be to take a walk every other day weather depending. I'm not about to become one of those crazy people you see walking in torrential rains or in a blizzard. But on nice days there is no reason I shouldn't get out and walk when I can. When I lost all that weight four years ago I did it simply through walking more and writing down what I eat. And getting out simply makes my anxiety go away. With those bonuses alone, I need to make an effort to get out there and walk. Here's hoping I can keep the pace up.

Happy Thanksgiving

I spent the morning cooking and will be heading out shortly to have dinner with my family. Today, think of something that makes you happy, something that defines life for you. It could be a close family, a wonderful marriage, a job you love, a pet, or even something as simple as the chance to read. Find that something and say a little prayer of thanks for it. I'm not religious but prayers of thanks into the universe seem the best possible form of praise for this life we have. I love life and everyday am thankful for it. Today just a bit more so. So say a little prayer of thanks. And I hope you have a fantastic Thanksgiving.

Isaac's Storm

They say that those who fail to learn from history are doomed to repeat it. Isaac's Storm is a perfect example of this.

About two years ago I read Erik Larson's book The Devil in the White City at the insistence of my mother. Now that is noteworthy for the fact that my mother is not much of a book reader. It is rare that she makes recommendations so I tend to read them. The book told the juxtaposed stories of the construction of the World's Fair in Chicago, and the story of H.H. Holmes, a brilliant serial killer who supposedly killed more than 27 people. The stories may seem odd bedfellows but Larson intertwined them in ways that just make sense. And kept me fascinated. I devoured the book and started seeking out more of Larson's books. I bought Isaac's Storm but it ended up relegated to my shelves until this past trip. I figured with a hurricane just missing the Yucatan Peninsula where I was going, this would be perfect beach reading.

Isaac's Storm also tells multiple stories. The first is about the Galveston Hurricane of 1900. The storm has been considered one of the worst natural disasters to ever occur on U.S. soil. It killed over 6000 people and almost leveled the entire city of Galveston. The reason the hurricane was so devastating is mostly because the town never had any indication that it would be hit. The storm simply wasn't predicted. And that leads to the other stories in the book. Larson also tells the story of Isaac Cline, the chief weather observer for Galveston and provides a history of meteorology and hurricane prediction. In the early 1900s the Weather Bureau in the US was just starting out and so many of their predictions were based on the current knowledge. The "law of storms" as it were. And the "law" stated that no hurricanes ever went that far into the Gulf of Mexico. Because of that Galveston never built a seawall to protect itself from hurricanes. Because of the known "law of storms" the chief meteorologist never noticed the classic signs of a major storm. And because of this arrogant ignorance, a town nearly was destroyed.

Galveston after the hurricane

Larson weaves these stories together beautifully. This well researched book reads like a novel in parts, and a detailed history in others. I learned a ton about the early history of weather prediction, about the signs and warnings of a hurricane, and about the people and the city of Galveston. All personal accounts are based on letters and on Isaac's own accounts of living through the hurricane. The Weather Bureau at that time used telegrams to convey current conditions and predictions so Larson had a treasure trove of documents that allowed him to map the storm out. In many of the chapters we follow the path of the storm as it grows and moves east into the Gulf. We learn how the Cubans tracked the storm perfectly but because of an arrogant director at the Weather Bureau, those reports were not read. This was a book for me about devastation that possibly could have been avoided. It was about willful ignorance and arrogance and the feeling that humans could control nature. And it was particularly poignant after the devastation of Hurricane Katrina.

As I mentioned at the beginning, those who fail to learn from history are destined to repeat it. We see a city like New Orleans, very much like the city of Galveston. It was built below sea level. It was built without a high enough levee to fight off rising waters. It was a city built on arrogance that a storm could never be powerful enough to destroy it. And one did. And many people lost their lives and their property because of it. I know I'm up on my soapbox here but I see them rebuilding New Orleans and I hope that this time they get it right. Building in a flood plain is risky and arrogant. And for some reason we keep doing it. No matter what the consequences. I hope fervently that the government of New Orleans rebuilds with the worry of another storm. I hope they rebuild smart. Or if they won't, then they shouldn't rebuild.

In Praise of Geeky Men

Jeff bought the new Star Trek film over the weekend and we sat down to watch it Saturday night. I'd never seen it but Jeff had gone when it was in the theaters. He had come home raving about how much he'd enjoyed it and although there were some inconsistencies he had thought it was a ton of fun. I've seen all the other Trek films so I figured I should probably see this one. I hadn't really be excited about it.

I have to admit that this was a very enjoyable movie. Not a great movie but a very enjoyable one. The plot was pretty decent (for a Trek film) but it was the characters that really made this movie fun. The script played with the well known characters. We all know what Kirk is like but other than an initial fling with a green skinned alien girl (what is it about the green skin?) he kept his hands to himself. It was Spock who ended up with the girl. We finally find out the origin of the name "Bones". Sulu isn't quite the master pilot we all remember him as. And Scotty...well anytime Simon Pegg takes a role, you know it's going to be fun. Needless to say I laughed, I worried, I enjoyed the film.

And about halfway through the film Jeff and I had this conversation:
Me: Wow, Spock is seriously hot
Jeff: Young Spock or old Spock?
Me: Young Spock of course
Jeff: What about Kirk?
Me: He's okay.
Jeff: What is it with you and the geeky guys?

Okay he may not have said that last line but it was what I was thinking. I've noticed a trend in myself. Some of the guys I find hot are not the ones most women are interested in. And vice versa. Brad Pitt does nothing for me. Tom Cruise and Mel Gibson (even before they went insane) aren't on my list of attractive me. Tobey McGuire though makes me weak in the knees (particularly in those nerdy Peter Parker glasses).

I've always found geek men attractive. I'm sure I'm not the only one who finds the guys on "The Big Bang Theory" attractive although it feels like it sometimes. When watching NCIS, one of my favorite shows, it's McGee that I find hot. Even decades ago I found Clark Kent much hotter than Superman. A pair of glasses, a strange fascination with D&D, and a huge intellect are apparently big turn-ons for me. Not sure why.

So in this recent Trek installment it was Spock who played that role. I loved the conflicted serious character who was just on the wrong side of cool. I loved the (mostly) stoic nature and the arrogant intellect. I even loved the ears. Just another attraction in a long line of men who few others consider hot. Other women may not want a geek but they are apparently right up my alley.

A Wedding and Mexico

Okay apparently when I said last night I meant tonight.

I've had plenty of time today to write this. I finally downloaded my pictures and had some time to look through them and I realized something. The pictures I have don't do this particular place justice. They certainly don't do the wedding justice. Everything was so incredibly beautiful and my camera just didn't capture all that. It was a whirlwind trip but full of such beauty.

We arrived on Thursday afternoon without issue. The drive from the airport to the resort took about 50 minutes but our driver took it slow. Playa del Carmen is a mix of incredibly luxurious resorts and some of the most abject poverty I've seen. The road we took in was divided. The left side had some exclusive resorts with the kind of guarded gates that I've seen in luxury travel magazines. On the other side of the road, shacks and run down stores. It was an odd paradox.

Our resort was no exception to the beauty. Here is a picture of the grounds.

This is the first all-inclusive I have ever stayed in and I was not prepared for how pampered I would feel. During check-in we were presented with some rather tasty alcoholic drinks. The mini-bar (also included) was stocked with beer, soda, water, and several full sized bottles of alcohol just waiting to be tapped. The room was just gorgeous but other than sleeping we spent very little time there. The first night was not a particularly good night but considering that Jeff and I hadn't slept much the night before and had been traveling all day, we ended up in bed about 8 that night.

Jeff woke me up to see the sunrise the next morning. There is nothing more wonderful than being wrapped up on a beach chair, listening to the sound of the waves, and watching the sunrise on the beach. The day was spent sleeping on beach chairs, playing in the ocean, and hanging out with family. I walked the beach both mornings with Jeff's dad and by the end of the trip my legs were killing me. The rehearsal dinner was that night but both Jeff and I were exhausted again and ended up in bed by 10.

The next day was the wedding. The resort had set up chairs and a wedding arch on the beach. It was a fabulous setting. I spent the morning walking the beach with dad, playing in the kiddy pool with my niece and nephew, and looking for Jeff. He and I managed to lose each other from morning until the wedding at three. I have to say that if Jeff and I were ever to get married again, this is how I would do it. To be able to attend a wedding, with drink in hand, and bare feet is just perfection. I took pictures and watched the kids and enjoyed the wedding. Everyone on the beach stood and watched. It was a wonderful moment. Here is a picture of the wedding party. I should download the professional ones but for right now you'll have to make due with my amateur ones.

After the wedding we sat in the lobby bar and had drinks until dinner. We ate at the resort's steakhouse (they had five restaurants). Then the bride and groom celebrated their marriage with a quick dip in the pool.

Jeff and I headed back to the room about 11 and went to sleep fast. We were both up by 2 since we had a transport coming for us at 4. The trip back to the airport in Cancun was much less slow and much less enjoyable. The driver drove like a maniac and with us being in the far back seat it was a bumpy ride. We did get there much faster than the trip in but I was a bit nauseous. The flight out of Cancun was great but getting out of Atlanta was a little more problematic. We ended up home about 3 hours after we were scheduled to. It was seven by the time we were finally home and Misty was thrilled to see us.

All and all it was a wonderful trip. The resort was beautiful, the all-inclusive part was fabulous, and the time spent hanging out was a lot of fun. It took me a couple days to recover but I'm so glad I went. Congrats guys. And thanks for a great trip.

Been Missing

I'm back. Okay I've actually been back in the country since late Sunday night. I've been mentally back in the game since last night.

I have tons of pictures to show you from Mexico. It was gorgeous. Truly beautiful. The resort was incredible, the all-inclusive aspect was wonderful, and the wedding was very pretty (enough adjectives?). And I've been meaning to post pictures and write about the trip but I just haven't been in the mood. Monday I spent the whole day with my aunt and uncle who were visiting. Tuesday I began kicking myself to sit down and write. So yesterday morning, after enough kicking, I decided that I would make this an extended blog vacation. I wouldn't post until I felt ready to. I wouldn't feel pressure to produce. I don't ever want this blog to feel like a job, a chore, something I have to do. Rather it should be something I'm excited to do.

All this week I've been coming home at night and crashing. I lay on the couch and stuff my face until I finally fall asleep. It's been hell on my mood and completely unproductive. I decided to change things up yesterday. Last night I sat on the couch and read. I watched TV and knit. I read more. And sometime last night a switch was thrown. I felt like myself again. I woke up this morning invigorated. I found at least three things I wanted to talk about just this morning alone. And I figured it was time to break my silence. A week and a half is a pretty long time for me to go without writing (or at least blog writing. I wrote free-hand all trip long). So this is just to say I'm back. I am composing in my head a post about the wedding and the trip that I'll post tonight. With pictures.

What's this 40 hour thing?

I'm in an insanely good mood today. I practically bounced out of bed this morning at 6:30. I'm humming while I work. I have lunch plans with a friend of mine. It's going to be a good day.

Of course most of this is the fact that I only work two days this week. I'd say that today is my Thursday but since I didn't work any of the previous days it doesn't really seem like Thursday. Wednesday is a state holiday and Thursday I wake up incredibly early to board a plane to Mexico. Can you tell I'm a little excited? Even with such a short trip (we're back on Sunday) I'm excited to spend some time hanging out on a beach with family. I'll post pictures when I get home. It doesn't seem real yet but having the rest of the week off keeps reminding me how soon I'm traveling.

And my short weeks don't end there. I'm back home but I'm taking Monday off just to relax. It actually worked out well since my favorite aunt and uncle will be in town that day and I will plan to see them for lunch. Then I have the four days next week of work. Followed of course by Thanksgiving week. So I only work three days that week. I don't have another full 5 day work week until December. How can I not be in a good mood with that type of schedule? Now all I have to do is get through today and tomorrow.

On the blog side please be aware that I will be posting today and tomorrow but won't be writing anything for the rest of the week. I'll plan to post pictures and descriptions when I get back but I'm not guaranteeing anything until next Monday or Tuesday. I'm taking this trip as a break from everything. I'll be back rested and refreshed with some new content and hopefully a bit of a tan. Hope you have half as good a week as I'm having. Or at least a good day.

Cleansing Post

The previous post was a bit sad and a bit disgusting. So here is a painting attempt I made this afternoon to cleanse your mind. Maybe. It's not a great painting but I'm having fun. It's my Balloon Boy. I love the blue of the sky but otherwise I'm not in love with the image. But it is much happier than my poor sick bird.

Halloween Bird

{Warning: The images below might be a bit icky for some people.}

With the time change, I've been getting up extra early. Even on weekends I'm waking up at 7:30 or 8. I'm much more of a morning person so I'm not complaining. I love the quiet stillness of Saturday mornings. I make a pot of coffee, haul out my notebook and pens, and watch the birds visit my feeder. That had to be the most entertaining purchase I've ever made. I find infinite pleasure in watching the variety of birds that visit. I've had beautiful birds like this gorgeous cardinal that visited during the snowstorm we had in October.

I have nuthatches and chickadees that visit regularly. They are my most frequent visitors. So frequent in fact that I've stopped photographing them. I do watch them with the binoculars though. I was watching this Saturday when a house finch landed on the feeder. I noticed that his head looked a little rough and picked up the binoculars. One half of the head was fine, a perfect finch face. The other side was...not. It looked like the finch's head had exploded. I was fascinated and horrified by it.

Here is the regular side.

Here is the other.

So I found my way to the computer to see if I can figure out what could be wrong with it. It appears to be Avian Pox which means I had to wash my bird feeder again. This is a contagious disease for birds (finches are regularly infected). The finch didn't seem to have too much trouble eating but I had to feel sorry for it. It will eventually starve or be killed by a predator. I watched it most of the morning.

The other birds, like this woodpecker (above), didn't seem to have a problem with it. But for me it was like a train wreck. It was the first injured or ill bird to have visited my feeder and I couldn't help but feel sorry for it. I hope it does okay and comes back. I keep the feeder full. I'll see if I see it again.

Poetry Friday

I hate to miss two days in a row on the blog (and I'll miss even more next week) so here are two posts for the price of one. Oh wait, you guys don't pay for these. Well it's a good deal anyway.

A small poem but one of my favorites. I'm always moved by unrequited love stories. And this short classic poem makes me happy and sad at the same time.

The Look
by Sara Teasdale

Strephon kissed me in the spring,
Robin in the fall,
But Colin only looked at me
And never kissed at all.

Strephon's kiss was lost in jest,
Robin's lost in play,
But the kiss in Colin's eyes
Haunts me night and day.

C is for....

Cookie, of course. We all know the song.

If you haven't been bombarded with Sesame Street stuff enough recently, here is just one more tribute to the program that most of us grew up loving. Sesame Street turns 40 next week and the tributes have been popping up everywhere. Google's most recent doodles have included Big Bird, Cookie Monster, and today's Ernie and Bert. I've seen news articles everywhere about the impact of the show on my generation and beyond. Even the BBC got in on the act today and did an article and a video about the series.

I grew up with Sesame Street and Mr. Rogers and loved both of the shows as a child. My mother would teach us time based on the shows. When we asked how long something was she would tell us "one Sesame Street" which was an hour or "one Mr. Rogers" which was a half an hour. It was not a perfect system but we quickly figured out about how long things were from that. We didn't watch a ton of TV as kids but we never missed Sesame Street. And time wasn't the only thing we learned from the great show. I learned how to count and spell and add from the show. And I learned without realizing it. The beauty of the show is that it made it so much fun to learn. From the puppets to the animated segments or the live-action films, we were subtly taught basic skills.

I haven't really watched the show in many years so I don't know if or how things have changed. I know that some of the new popular characters like Elmo have gained quite a following. But back in my day (wow I sound old saying that) Big Bird and Snuffleupagus were celebrities for my generation. I'm glad that this educational program has received all the acclaim that it has. The geniuses who invented it molded a generation who had grown up with television as a medium. We learned and we loved it. And for that I'm incredibly grateful. It may not have been edgy but it was the best hour on television.

For added fun check out Matthew Stadlen's 5 Minutes With Sesame Street. I'm a huge fan of the whole 5 Minutes With... series but this one was extra fun.

Spoonful of Stories

If you see me scarfing down Cheerios recently, it has nothing to do with the flavor (okay well a little) but right now it has more to do with the books. General Mills (specifically Cheerios) and Simon and Schuster have been running the Spoonful of Stories program for the last seven years but this is the first time I was aware of it. I had heard about this giveaway from a number of the children's book blogs I read but I didn't realize it had started until I was standing in the grocery store on Sunday and looked down to see that Cheerios offered a copy of What's Under the Bed by Joe Fenton. I reviewed this book for my other blog and had loved it. I own a copy of the book but for some reason I simply had to buy that particular box of Cheerios. I brought it home, and like a child, opened the box just to get the toy.

And now I'm a girl obsessed. The program chooses five books each year to distribute in their boxes. These are not unknown books either. Some of the previous titles include: Sylvester and the Magic Pebble, Bear Snores On, Click Clack Moo, and my favorite Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs. The list of authors selected reads like a who's who of the children's book world. Joe Fenton's book must be part of the 2009 picks since it's not yet listed on the Spoonful of Stories site. From 2002-2008, Spoonful of Stories has distributed 35 million books in their cereal boxes. This is the kind of children's toy giveaway that I can really get behind.

The books are smaller than normal sized, softcover, and in both Spanish and English. The illustration are the exact same just in a smaller size and without the glossy pages. I ate breakfast on Monday rereading the book. I'm hoping to finish the box fast enough that I can go out to the store again to pick up another box, this time with a different book. I may have to start eating Cheerios for lunch now. And maybe dinner. Never underestimate the power of a free book.

New Toys!!!

I picked up two new toys last night and am very excited to get a chance to play with them this evening. The first one is a big beautiful desktop. I've got it sitting on my writing desk upstairs. It's an Olympia.

The second is a laptop and it even came with its own carrying case. It's the perfect size and I already like the feel of the keys under my fingers. I'm looking forward to sitting downstairs on the couch with it on my lap working on it. It's a Royal and used to be my fathers.

Now for those of you who are confused, these aren't computers. They're typewriters. Or more specifically manual typewriters. The big one (about 40 pounds worth of machine) is a desktop model that my mother bought many years ago for about 10 bucks and never used. I spent most of my high school years writing novel attempts on the thing. I went over to my parent's house last night with the specific desire of rescuing it from my parent's basement. I have been missing my old portable from college and wanting a new typewriter. What better one than a machine that I spent most of my high school years using. What I didn't know when I went over is that my father also had an old portable manual typewriter that he wrote his papers on in college. They made it a two for one deal (and even bought dinner) just for me to get them out of their house.

They both work beautifully and I'm really excited to own them. I love the feel and sound of a manual typewriter and have always written better when I had to pound my ideas out on the keys. There is something very satisfactory about the clickety-clack of a typewriter. And these are both beautiful specimens. I'll try to post pictures later this evening but I just had to share my excitement.

Okay, here's the Olympia along with my very cluttered writing desk.

And here is the Royal, or technically Royalite.

What my favorite snack is worth?

For the last hour I have done nothing but stand at the counter, plucking delicate seeds, avoiding juice stains, and slowly losing feeling in my back. Twice I had to stop and sit down in order to ease the pain in my neck from bending over. My fingers were so cold and wet that they pruned within the first thirty minutes. But it's all worth it. I now have a huge tupperware container filled to the top with pomegranate seeds.

November makes me incredibly happy for a number of reasons. It's my birthday month which always means a nice dinner out with my family. It's the month of my very favorite holiday, Thanksgiving. More food and family. And it's pomegranate season. Can you tell I like food?

In these days of supermarkets where I can get grapes, asparagus, apples, and strawberries year round, pomegranates are a bit of an oddity. They only appear in the store during the end of October and throughout November and December. The rest of the year you simply can't get them or at least not good ones. You can always tell a good pomegranate by how heavy the fruit is. It should be much heavier than you expect it to be. It should also be firm and a deep red.

Now pomegranates have to be one of the most difficult fruits to eat. I've heard of people who peel the skin and then eat both the seeds and the pulp between but I'm not willing to stoop to such lengths. I am picky about my pomegranates and am willing to put in the work to get the flavorful seeds while avoiding the stringy pulp. They are quite simply my favorite snacks and are worth every minute of extra effort.

At the store today, I bought three of the largest ones I've ever seen. I took them home and scored the fruit into quarters. Then comes the delicate work of pulling the seeds out. I'm pretty picky and only take the full and clear seeds, leaving behind the cloudy and smooshed ones. Inevitably I will get juice all over the counter, my hands, and my clothing. But it is all worth it. I can now open the fridge and take a handful of seeds to munch on whenever I want. And this will be my only snack for weeks. All during pomegranate season the fridge is never without a container filled with seeds. I literally eat myself sick of them. I will eat them until the thought of their juice makes me slightly ill. Luckily by that time the season will be over and I can start working on craving them again next year. I love pomegranate season.