Wind took away the leaves.

Since we’re still sick, Charlotte and I had a pajama day.  The wind was whipping up while we were inside making a pot of chilli and having tea (decaf for Charlotte).  When I put her down for her nap, I noticed that the few trees I can see out of my windows (in this most sylvan part of Baltimore City) were stripped today from the wind.

I feel like I’ve missed this fall.

But, in my defence, we had such a wet spring, summer and early fall that a lot of trees never really changed color.  Truly, it’s the most visually disappointing autumn I can remember.

The chilli was very good, though.  Helped to open up our stuffed-up noses a little bit.

Ah, tea!

We are, all three, sick.  Which sucks.  But now Charlotte really likes green tea with honey.  And by that I mean that a not-quite seventeen month old toddler tells me that she wants tea and then will drink a whole cup of it (cooled down first, of course).

She also asked for the potty tonight, peed in it and then said, “All done.”  I am tempted to lose my shit with excitement that potty time is coming very early, but I’d like to see a repeat performance or something.

Or maybe it’s just the Benadryl and dehydration talking.

I am having trouble remembering when Charlotte could not walk and or talk at all. Because, shyte, these days, well these days, she learns so many new words in a day that I can’t keep up with her.

Writing feels good.

Last year, I attempted the whole NaNoWriMo thing and fell short.  Which is to say that I ran out of steam and quit.  I mean, I did have a job and a seven-month old.  So I didn’t feel badly about it.  Mrs. P suggested we enter the writing contest (fiction) at our local alternative weekly paper this month.  Good motivation to write.

I hadn’t thought about fiction since last year, and I read a short story I thought of working on for this endeavor.  It was written in pencil in a book.  Turns out that it’s way too dirty.  Also, well, I only got through about 5,000 words of it before I realized I could never cut it down to the contest’s 2,500 word limit.  That one might have to get submitted to Playboy or something.  Damn.

So I popped out 1,000 words of a new short story tonight in a half hour on a cup of tea with milk and honey.  (My throat hurts.)  Parts of it made me laugh out loud.  I mean, I sometimes laugh hard at things that aren’t funny.  But maybe this is funny.  I don’t know.  I have to finish it tomorrow or early on Friday and find out.

But it feels damned good to be writing again.  And then I found a pen I’d been looking for.

Attractive enough to be a stripper?

Getting tea today at a local cafe’, I asked for my change in ones (for the bus). I joked with the lady who works there, “I don’t wanna steal all your ones.” She showed me her huge roll of ones and said, “When I get home, I have like thirty singles. People ask me if I’m a stripper or a dancer. I’m like, ‘Thanks, I guess, for thinking I’m attractive enough to be a stripper.’”

History, in 6 glasses.

I have always been both fascinated by and obsessed with drinks.  Not alcoholic ones, mind you.  Beverages.  When I was a kid, I was always always thirsty.  I needed juice or soda or milk constantly.  I realize now that it was because I could literally not stand to drink water until I was 20 years old and was probably mildly dehydrated all the time.  I think I’ve mentioned that I’m 29 and have been drinking coffee consistently for about 21 years, daily for 20.  I’m American, so you know I’ve had my share of Coke.  Etc.

So I began reading A History of the World in Six Glasses last night, and I am enjoying it immensely.  I was tempted to consume the beverage in question while reading the six parts.  Still am.  But I read for my lunchtime whenever I can, and I can’t very well get tanked at work.  (That only happens when I need to talk to someone and have to track them down at a community happy hour and — poor me — have to drink beer in the afternoon……..trying to think of who I can track down this week……..)  Perhaps after the third part, when the drinks under examination are coffee, tea and Coke, I can indulge.

Office, fall 2006.


Dang it, I don’t start my new job and move into my sweet new office until next month. Here’s a workspace from my dissertation, in the fall of 2006, which feels like last month.

My stomach is killing me, which is why I’m still up.  I could go for some of that chai tea right now.

Photo Friday: The Office.

Bit O Irish Tea.

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I have been on a tea kick again lately. I have not had coffee today at all and have not had any large amount of tea — just a few cups. The dry skin on my hands is healing, and I swear I have more energy. Maybe I’m sleeping better. It’s nice to be getting a handle on my caffeine addiction, at least a little. Or maybe I’m kidding myself.

Happy St. Patty’s Day 2008.

Last year, it was snowy and cold.  After a flick, we celebrated with a couple we love.  The hubbies declared their Irish-ness over pint after pint of Irish brew.  This year, it is sunny and beautiful, though a bit nippy.  I ran my errands on my bike today, weighing down my backpack enough to compress my chest, which kept making me giggle.  I need to use my rack next time, though.

I went to a St. Patrick’s Day Tea at The Crown and Thistle this weekend with my parents and aunt.  I was wearing a very green sweater and my red beard.  A quiet lady who worked there put her hand on my shoulder as she was walking by our table and told me, “You look like one of our real Irishmen today.”  I took that as a compliment.  I wore several pieces of green yesterday to a family party.  More today.  I’m drinking Irish tea and listening to Celtic music and enjoying the sun.  I am not much in the mood for drinking, though I think my heritage requires at least a pint or two of Guinness tonight, with the cabbage I am eating for dinner.

I delivered a head of cabbage to my parents’ house in Hampden on my bike rack today, wearing green.  I’m like a leprechaun today, I swear.