Freedom of Choice?

While I was in town today picking up medical supplies for John, medicine for John and getting toner cartridges refilled for the churches I stopped by a little store that is snuggled below street level to buy a product that can't be labeled and although not quite illegal is certainly a hush-hush kinda thing. What was I after, in a country that would legally let me murder an unborn child even just for unproven research or smoke pot for medicinal purposes it is raw milk that I was after today. We had a cow when I was a kid, I miss her, no matter how hard I try to convince Mark he says that I can't get away with putting a miniature milk cow in the back yard with a big dog collar on and a glaring "Beware of Vicious Dog" sign, so I've been searching for where to get this beverage of my choice. In my own town I can buy soda laden with high fructose corn syrup, liquor of many varieties, cheap beer and milk from cows that have been given questionable hormones and antibiotics, not to mention juices from orchards that use who-knows-what kind of pesticides and yet it is the simplest beverage of all - milk straight from the cow, that I am willing to drive an hour one way to procur. I find it ironic that Freedom of Choice involves so many other things in our world and yet something so simple as what kind of milk we want to drink is regulated to the hilt. Now lest you think I'm crazy there is all kind of research that says that raw milk is better for you than pasteurized homogenized milk, and that raw milk from grass-fed cows is better yet. Over the weekend I'll put up a side-bar on the blog with all these things I've been reading of late. For now, I'm off my milky soapbox and getting ready for Thanksgiving. I have so much to be thankful for, I'll share some of those in the next post, and at the moment I'm thankful that I was able to procure some delicious organic grass-fed raw milk in nice recyclable glass jars!