Tonight I'm eating frozen peas while I blog. I only know of one other person that eats frozen peas . . . well that was until she and I converted as many people as possible to the trend. I can't really remember when it started, sometime in my childhood, but tonight I was rummaging around for a snack, and regretfully, because I have put off going to the store I had nothing exciting. But don't worry I have frozen peas!
There's an art to eating frozen peas. You can't eat them straight out of the freezer - they really are too frozen and almost crunchy. You have to let the bag sit a little bit, or you can hold a few in your hand to soften them up, just enough so that they're still cold but no longer crunchy or coated with ice. When I ran cross country in high school I used to use them to ice my knees, after about twenty minutes on my leg they were perfect consistency.
Sitting here, I wonder how it is that I love vegetables, it really makes life so much easier when you do. :) But I think the gift of being able to eat frozen peas is like so many others that I learned from my parents unintentionally. There were no lectures on frozen peas, or for that matter on how to listen, what to do in a crisis or how to relate to people different than myself. Yet somehow, inadvertently, just like eating frozen peas, I learned how.
But its not until I realize other people didn't get that same experience that I appreciate loving frozen peas.
