Tag Archives: tea

Tea… Ahhhh. (Or ‘AAAAAAGH!!!’)

After we moved into our new home three years ago, I developed a tea ritual:  Almost every morning I take my mug outside to the front porch.  Even in winter, I wrap up in a blanket and enjoy my tea outdoors. It’s a lovely interlude of peace and serenity… or it was, until last week.

In the summer, my ritual has an extra step: I have to put a hat on Hubby’s car. Not because the car or I care anything about fashion; it’s just that when the sun is at its summer height, it reflects annoyingly off the windshield and into my eyes.  My wide-brimmed hat is always by the door, so that’s my default sunshade.

Last week I carried out my mug of tea and sat down in my favourite chair, only to receive a ‘glaring’ reminder that I’d forgotten to put the hat on the car. I hauled myself up again, grabbed the hat, and plopped it onto the windshield before returning to my chair.

And that’s when everything went to hell.

We still don’t have a proper front porch — it’s just a patch of gravel awaiting concrete. We’ve laid a small piece of plywood down so we don’t get our feet dirty, but only the front legs of the chairs are on the plywood. So they’re a tad unstable.  As was I. (I realize the jury is still out on my mental stability; but I’m talking about physical stability here.)

My foot bobbled on the edge of the plywood and I sat down rather more quickly and inaccurately than I’d intended. My hand caught the edge of the little table that held my tea mug, and my butt hit the seat cushion at the same time as approximately a pint of hot tea.

Turns out that our chair cushions are waterproof enough to hold a pint of tea in a convenient butt-shaped puddle for exactly the amount of time it takes for two short messages to flash through my stunned synapses: “Shit, I spilled my tea” and “OH-SHIT-THAT’S-HOT!

I launched out of the chair like it was an ejection seat, then immediately turned my ejected seat into the breeze in an attempt to cool the steaming fabric. Then, standing there plucking soggy pants away from my parboiled butt and eyeing the chair with its wet cushion and incriminating puddle below, I burst out laughing. Not for the first time, I gave thanks that we live out in the middle of nowhere and there were no witnesses.

I always drop a few ice cubes into my tea to bring it down to drinkable temperature, so the only damage was to my dignity.  Fortunately I wasn’t over-endowed with dignity in the first place, so it’s not much of a loss.

But it’s gonna be a while before I can completely relax again with a mug of tea…

Book 16 update:  Everything has been on hold while I’ve dealt with the time-consuming and annoying transfer of my paperback publishing to a new distributor.  It’s (mostly) done now, so I’m looking forward to getting back to Book 16 this week!


Filed under Humour, Life

Squared Lasagna And Numeric Tea

It’s getting a little crazy around here…

Okay, fine; I’ll admit it:  We’ve zoomed past ‘a little crazy’ and are rapidly approaching chaos and madness.

The packers and movers arrive tomorrow, and we’re scrambling to get the last of our pre-packing done.  The house looks as if it’s occupied by hyperactive children with Attention Deficit Disorder:  There are little heaps everywhere because we rarely get a block of time uninterrupted by some crisis or another.

Here are just a few of the highlights:

  • Our ancient water heater wasn’t supplying enough hot water so we hired a plumber to replace it, only to find that all that was needed was a $2.00 part… but we had to pay $800 to replace the tank anyway because the old tank was already pulled out.

Time lost:  2.5 hours.
Equanimity lost:  98%

  • The furnace blower motor seized. Hubby fixed it.

Time lost:  2 hours.
Knuckle skin lost:  50%

  • The dishwasher died. (It’s the newest appliance in the house.)  Hubby fixed it.

Time lost:  2 hours.
Appreciation for irony lost:  92%

  • The builder needed an HVAC design for our new house, and we only had a half-assed sketch from the heating contractor. I figured out the heating and return air drops, modified the plan to accommodate them, and provided an annotated drawing.

Time lost:  5 hours.
Brainpower lost:  95%

  • We still can’t find insurance for our shipping container once it arrives on the Island.

Time lost:  Several days and counting.
Peace of mind lost:  89%

  • My brand-new Ford Escape refused to start… and then, just to make diagnosis virtually impossible, it started up and ran as though nothing had ever been wrong. It goes into the shop on Friday, and we want to hit the road in a week.

Time lost:  God only knows.
Sanity lost:  100%

At least we’ve still got a sense of humour.  (Yes, that’s one sense of humour between the two of us.)

To wit:  One evening I’d made a giant pan of lasagna.  We’d finished eating, but the pan was on the table and the cheese was still warm and melty.  Hubby and I each idly picked up a spatula and nudged the cut edges of the lasagna into a perfect square from opposite sides… and then burst out laughing at our anal-retentiveness.  At least our quirks are compatible.

And speaking of anal-retentive quirks, my sister and I had a good giggle, too.  She had sent me a yummy Christmas gift:  24 Days Of Tea, with the little samples randomly numbered.  So I did what any self-respecting geek would do:  I rearranged them in numeric order.

“They’re supposed to be like that,” she informed me through her laughter.  “If you turn the boxes around they make a picture.”

Seriously, why would you waste time hunting for the next number?

Seriously, why would you waste time hunting for the next number?

(I also didn’t realize I was supposed to wait until December 1 to start sampling the tea.  Who knew tea could be so complicated?  It should have come with instructions.)

Anyhow, I’m taking deep breaths and reminding myself that one way or another this move will happen.  It won’t be smooth or stress-free; but, hey, at least our lasagna is squared off and our tea is correctly numbered.

At this point, I’ll take any illusion of control I can get!


Filed under Humour, Life