Sour milk.

Perspectvite = reality {Clean.}

Perspectvite = reality {Clean.}

Perspectvite = reality {Clean.}

Perspectvite = reality {Clean.}

I woke this morning to find that my refrigerator is broken.

I suspect it's doing an okay job at cooling off my kitchen floor, but that's not really what I'm after.

The door doesn't seal any more and is hanging crooked and low on account of a broken hinge or something.

So it hangs there secretly open almost an inch, injured under the weight of too much kraut in the door. Or maybe all the hard cider. I'm not sure which.

Regardless, it has issues.

And I didn't know.


Twice this morning I tried to make my tea, the ritual that anchors my day.

Black tea. Cardamon. Ginger. Cayenne. Honey.



I reached to the back of the fridge for a new bottle of milk and repeated my rutual once more. And I wondered what was wrong with my palate since my tea tasted terrible again despite the fresh milk.

It took Sage making his own tea and spitting the first sip into the sink for me to realize we had a problem.


No milk. No tea. No ritual. No anchor.

No fridge.

And then I got grouchy.


As sour as those three gallons of milk that I just picked up on Tuesday.

Because I want my tea, darn it. I need my tea!


Or… do I?

Because goodness. Is this the depth of my troubles and will I let it shape this day?

A bit of sour milk.

Let's be real.

It's nothing.

There are far worse things I could let ruin my day. (And far smaller come to think of it.)


So the kettle is on for the third time and I'm switching to herbal tea.

And I'm making ricotta from those three gallons of milk.

And I'm getting over it. And on with it.


Because I have food, despite the milk being off. No one will go hungry here.

I have people to care for. A home to care for. A life.

We're warm and safe and dry.

And we are here, together.

Our needs are met. And life – regardless of that flavor of my milk – is sweet.


And then, just as the kettle came to a boil I remembered this: a gallon of sweet milk. Tucked away in the basement freezer.

And once again it seems that our perspective on reality can change reality.


15 thoughts on “Sour milk.

  1. Jillian says:

    I find it none short of amazing that your posts are most often speaking to me when I need it most. I was just sitting here thinking to myself that I need a perspective shift as I have become quite grumpy in the mornings over the smallest of things which is ruining not only my mornings but the mornings of my sweet family. And the problem is mine so I have the power to change it! Thank you for your writing, my dear.

  2. Kelly says:

    Thank you Rachel – this is beautiful and I learn so much every time I visit your blog (often things I’m working on internally anyway, maybe that’s why I show up here those days) – and not just from the practical posts, although I love those too! 🙂

  3. Carrie @ November Morning says:

    Last week our oven went. This week the roof started leaking into our kitchen. Three was a time when I would have completely come apart over all of this but caring for a sick little one helped me put it in perspective. I just put some pots and pans on the floor, called family to come take a look at the roof, and went back to my little boy. (and later realized how much more at peace I was by choosing not to grouch my way through.)
    Thanks for the reminder, Rachel♥

  4. rose says:

    I love this post! Thank you! I have only just started reading your blog, but I find how you write and the photographs very inspiring.

  5. amy says:

    Really appreciate your attitude and I needed the kick in the pants as well….My morning tea is definitely….definitely my anchor!

  6. Nicola says:

    Just in case your fridge is still broken & this is useful…… husband bought 2 very strong magnets & glue gunned them to the fridge & door as a temp fix. 2 years later it is still working fine while we are trying to raise money for a new fridge (but other things are more important because the magnets are working fine lol)

  7. Sage says:

    I have this post bookmarked on my computer.
    I always find myself coming back to it for inspiration.
    This and ‘Behold, the power of cropping.’
    Keep it up, sister! You provide me with so much inspiration, Rachel.

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