I mostly drink water and coffee (fair trade, with turbinado sugar and soy creamer) but I also enjoy a couple herbal teas: rooibos (red bush), drunk by one of my favorite literary characters (Mma Precious Ramotswe, which you'd know if you'd been paying attention); peppermint; licorice, which does not taste like Good & Plenties, which are vile (no offense, Messrs. Strickland, Mahon, or Hershey). What these herbal teas have in common is that there's only one ingredient. That appeals to me.
Despite the title of this blog, I want you to notice that the photo shows no sun. Nope. This is really Shade Tea. I used to make Star Tea when I worked nights. I put a dozen bags of rooibos into a tall glass jar that held a couple quarts. I filled it with water and put it out on the sidewalk in front of my house. This would happen around two in the morning. When I woke up the next day, I'd wring out the tea bags and put the jar in the refrigerator.
I called it Moon Tea for a while, but I like Star Tea better. It's because of the Star Tea that I tried Shade Tea and found that it works just fine. Now, deep inside my brain, I feel quite certain that the tea would brew indoors. It would brew in the corner of a closet under a pillow in a box. Nonetheless, Shade Tea is far more romantic than, say, Under The Bed Tea, or Top Cupboard Tea.
I had a better photo of the tea brewing, but I wanted my northern readers to see the grass. We've had so much rain that we may actually be out of the three-year drought. But look: there are still bald patches.
Speaking of bald, here's my hubcap! The UPS guy brought it yesterday. Until I got this, with its cone in the center, I had assumed my 'cap would be a plain jane. It's going to be fun to figure out what to put on it, and how. I hadn't though about those spaces around the rim, either, and now I want to weave something through there. But I paint; I don't weave. Do I?
If I were in my new house (again with the euphemisms, if not flat-out lies), I'd at least have primed it by now ...
Book Update: I may have to give up on the idea of telling you each book I read. It's too hard to keep track of. I mean, emulating dear KT in Minneapolis, I'm writing each book down -- in the same place, not on bitty little scraps of paper floating around -- but then I forget to record them here. I just wasted time searching my blog and even so, I can't tell. So never mind. The last three I read are:
- Testimony by Anita Shreve which was very Jodi Picoultesque; I enjoyed it.
- When You Are Engulfed in Flames by David Sedaris. I laughed at a bunch of these essays. I'm not a diehard fan, but each book I read gets me closer to that category.
- I Was Told There'd Be Cake by Sloan Crosley, who appears to be a David Sedaris wannabee. Or not. I don't know. This was a collection of essays, too. She just seems too mean. Great title, though, huh?
Mo, by the way, is doing nicely. The vet said his bloodwork is good, but I don't know what that has to do with cancer. He spends at least part of the night on my pillow which, oddly, I don't mind at all.
Nero -- that scrawny black unfixed stray who may or may not be bullying my beloved Mittens -- has a wound that's looking pretty bad. Someone thought the young man out back might be the owner, so I sought him out. He was wearing Surfer Boy shorts and a boa constrictor when I found him. A former snake-owner myself, I just found the creature absolutely appealing -- so smooth and muscular. When the sun caught her just right, her scales seemed holographic.
He doesn't own Nero, though, so I'm trying to think of ways to capture him and bring him to a vet. The trouble is, I only see him at night. He'd hate me if I kept him in a carrier all night long. He'd probably yowl the neighborhood awake, too, and do that spraying thing that male cats do that is still, thankfully, just a theory to me. So I'm just wringing my hands for now.
Lubber Update: I sprayed Windex on that last lubber, since one article said that dumping it in soapy water would kill it. It didn't seem to have an effect on it, but I haven't seen it since. I look for it all the time, though. If I find it again, I'm just going to push it off my Mandeville, but not kill, maim, or annoy it. Okay, you lubber lovers?