
Before bedtime, I remind my children of the importance of hydration, so I like to prepare them a glass of water. I begin by gathering jars of free-range H2O that I melted down using a lavender-scented candle from freshly fallen snow (the snow was organic). It’s crucial to place the jars in a basket over an assortment of ruby, sapphire, and emerald stones directly beneath a full moon to absorb its energy. I know this is a bit of an alternative method, but trust me, this is much easier than the mainstream convention of digging a well near the vein of a mineral spring under the waning half-moon while the hummingbirds are in migration and the witchlings are bathing in the currents.
After a few hours, I bring the jars back in and pour the purified water into a pan, then set it to low-heat. As the moon water simmers, I add a few ice cubes from December’s batch before I grate some ice harvested directly from an Antarctic glacier. Then, I chopped up some fermented icicles I saved from the winter of 1836, and used a butane lighter to filter out any impurities (yes, the butane was locally sourced).
Once the moon water has been properly purified, I pour it into a strainer and set it aside. Then it’s time to grab a baking pan and add some liquified ice and some water spice before setting inside my convection oven to bake at 750°F until it fully melts. While that bakes, I blend some ice I gathered while summiting Mount Everest last weekend. I strained everything into a glass before hitting it with the immersion blender and grating some solidified angel tears for garnish. Now it’s time to hand my children their glasses of water for hydrational nourishment before they levitate into their peaceful slumber.
“Mom, this water tastes weird…”
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Your methods are interesting. I, however, prefer to heat my water over the geothermal phenomena of Rotorua, as this way the heat is organic as well. Inorganic heat, although produced from locally sourced butane, has high risk of carrying microplastics.
Thank goodness the butane was locally sourced I was about to judge hardcore