the blender wakes me up each morning. the abrasive grind and pulse of my grandfather's concoction: aloe (straight from the backyard), celery, carrots, and apples (also straight from the backyard). the drink is thick, orange and lukewarm. no hint of sweetness, just an overpowering taste of raw grass. and i must drink every single drop - lick the sides with my tongue. my grandmother promises, "you'll poop good."
unfortunately hasn't affected my bowel movements just yet.
