conscious bean soup

This is a public service announcement.

I tend to be fairly conscious of my effect on the planet. I recycle and buy second-hand clothes and ride a bike and turn off lights. I realize the part I play is very small in the overwhelming scheme of things, but I do what I can and try not to have a panic attack about all the landfills in the world. (And there is certainly much more I could do. I will never give up hot showers, for one thing.)

I also like to think I care about people pretty well. My heart is burdened for those freezing to death in Russia right now and those in Africa shlepping river water over miles to hydrate a family (hello, River to Well). And I can't deny the certain amount of guilt I feel reading about people dying in Chinese factories while polishing iPad screens.

In reality, those people and issues seem so far out of my reach that I'm not sure how to change my daily routine to feel that I am helping. But there is always hope, and here is a baby step: a movement dubbed 'conscious capitalism' that encourages companies and consumers to consider everything and everyone involved in the entire supply chain of their products and purchases. Now, I exited the business track after taking macroeconomics freshman year so I don't pretend to know all about supply chains, but I do like the thought of purchasing something and not feeling guilty about harming people in the process.

The inspiration for this soap-box post and the credit for this feel-good soup goes fully to my dear friend Jessica, who sent me this delicious mix as a Christmas gift. She lives in St. Louis, but take heart -- neither this soup nor the movement are confined to one city.

The Bean Project employs women who are struggling to make ends meet. They put together food items so those of us with the means can buy great food so they can buy great food. It's a wonderful cycle. And really, why on Earth not?

The only catch (there's always a catch) is this: I had to ignore the nagging guilt about burning the energy to let the soup simmer for four hours. That darn gas bill. I knew it was worth it, so I simply distracted myself with a few episodes of Downton Abbey. It snowed that day, which is a fine excuse in my book, but, truth be told, Kelsey and I have developed a pretty serious habit of this.

Thanks for the socks, Mom and Dad!

As the recipe on the package recommends, I added a can of diced tomatoes and some vegetables during the last hour. And the house smelled heavenly.

Thanks for the apron, Grandma!

During the intermission between Downton and the KU game (they start at 9 p.m. here! we have to watch online! whine whine whine!), we got out of bed just long enough to fill our bowls. Like I said, this is serious.

In conclusion: recycle, read the paper, eat delicious conscious soup, watch television online, hibernate in the winter, count your blessings. Go Jayhawks.

With love.