Tea Memories

Thought I'd share some old (well, 2003) pictures of me making a blend of tea at Whittard. (Somehow I placed the pictures in backwards order.)

I've written about this place before, the T-Zone where you can use different oils and fruits, some spices, to mix with base teas (Keemun, Assam, Sencha etc.) to make something really flavorful. Though I usually lean toward the teas without flavoring nowadays, like Darjeeling, I don't mind the occasional Mango Indica or, of course, chai, which is much more than tea. Still, I am slightly more snobbish about the quality of tea than I used to be, say, ten years ago when I was still a teenager. I took the time to have a refined tongue, though this usually only applies to tea and chocolate (maybe some pasta sauces too.) Yet when I look at my photos and videos from ten years ago, I looked a lot more like an uptight snot than I do now. Maybe I am a more relaxed person nowadays. Perhaps, like wine or Pu-Erh, it pays to age a bit.

Writer's Cramp

When I pick up certain pens to take a message or to jot a note to myself, I get the sudden itch to write. Usually this happens when I simply don't have time to devote to literary greatness. When the opportunity presents itself, though, there are a certain amount of pages I can write before my hand gets tired, at which point I decide to do something else. What a baby. I was watching "Pride and Prejudice" (the Firth version, sounds like I'm lisping) and I noticed how many times a writer in Austen's time would have to dip their pen into the inkwell whilst writing a letter. Sometimes this happened a few times in a sentence! How did anyone write full books in those days?

How spoiled we are now, with our laptops and soft touch keyboards. How can we not write when inspired? Still, I do love the feeling of a fine pen on actual paper. It's lovely.

Duforth

I don't think I devoted any space to Duforth. That's terrible, as she was the sweetest cat that ever lived. The less bratty version of Zenobia, and Cinnamon's companion. Really, he started falling apart after she died. Though they fought at times, she was the love of his life.

Me too

Marie posted her cat Maxie's double. I found a cat that looked a lot like old Sino in his heavier days, and guess what? This one's also named Cinnamon.

All I Need on a Winter's Evening (well, almost)

Snow...Duh

It obviously snowed this weekend. Record levels! But it's not qualified as a blizzard as the wind wasn't strong enough. Okay.... I still think 26.9 inches is nothing to sneeze at.

I'll have more pictures soon, but I thought I'd leave these peaceful backyard shots as a reminder of how lovely snow can make things (when it's new anyway).

Nothing like a cozy day with a warm cup of tea and a number of good books, and Napoleon Dynamite. I also watched The Sign of Four, a Sherlock Holmes mystery with Jeremy Brett. What an old teatime favorite (for me).

And I still made it to work in good time this morning.

Magazine Musings

I recently renewed my subscription to this magazine, and I'm glad I did. It is designed for tea lovers, and even the pages smell fantastic! The most recent issue features the only tea garden in England, which is quite extraordinary. I'm going to have to visit the garden next time I'm over there. There was also a recipe for chai, tea book reviews, an article about Serendipitea (see my links), and tea poetry. I'm sure most tea lovers know about this magazine, but if not, now you know.

I really can't be bothered with other magazine subscriptions. Although the glossies are appealing, I wouldn't want to receive any of them regularly. Sometimes I spend my lunch hour in Barnes and Noble with a cup of tea or hot cocoa and a stack of mags to look through. (It's not freeloading - I'm buying the drink! For goodness' sake.) Besides, once I look through the recent mags, that's it, I don't want to see them again. The only time I really want to buy them is before boarding a plane. I can't concentrate on a book when I'm in the air, and the light and mindless reading of Vogue, Bazaar, Elle, whatever, is just the thing to keep me calm. Sometimes I buy magazines in London when I'm there because of all the freebie attachments that one would not find in American mags. Cheap thrills!

Of course, (and I think I've written about this before but it merits a repeat mention) Victoria magazine was the best, and I still miss it. There were always articles on tea, but there was so much more. Rest in peace, Victoria, and if anyone wants to perform a periodical resurrection, I'm all for it.

My Most Touristy Picture Ever

Old Favorites...

When the Pathfinder was new (it's not mine!)

Giardino's: we used to go there all the time...and then it wasn't fun anymore. Still, their Penne Alla Vodka was good, and great on a budget.

Sino in 2003: so pudgy. My dad called his cheeks "snowballs". Sob!

Kitties 2003

From an old roll of film just developed:
A calico cat we used to feed in the backyard, Chubby thinking he's Buddha, and Chubby giving Moof Moof his tough boy stare.

My Newest Acquisitions

I love Chococat, and Hello Kitty. I love being able to carry my own tea around. Now I can combine these two passions into with these thermoses, which I bought yesterday. I'm not usually into chrome, but the Chococat picture is just so appealing. Yes, it doesn't take much to make me happy. I feel young again.

What I Miss Most in Life

Beyond people or pets, the thing I miss the most is Jello Pudding Pops. Anyone growing up in the 80's and 90's must remember these. They were the perfect dessert, like ice cream but not as messy, pudding without a spoon - few pleasures in life exceed the pudding pop. Even the smell was fantastic - when I took off the wrapper, it was all I could do to keep from inhaling it clear up my nose.

Just look at the swirl flavor. A perfect marriage, they were always gone from the package first.

Why are they extinct? Did they cause heart attacks in laboratory rats? Were they too expensive to produce? It's just pudding, isn't it? Maybe some preservative ingredient was found to be addictive. That would not be a surprise.

Bring them back!

She's A Brat

The Last Roll

Though I took some parting shots with my cellphone, these are the last photos I have of Sino from my camera. It was around the time where he was in his last few weeks of still being playful before he really started being sick.

Florida Pics

Just some more from November....

When it's not really swimming weather, it's fun to take in the sea air and check out the sunset. Or let your head wobble off your shoulders.

Found!

Can you believe, after 2 months of searching, the day before I was to apply for my new passport, and the day I wrote the Lost blog, I found my passport?! It was in a pile of stuff I'd looked through before. Amazing.. the power of prayer.

Lost....

It's the darndest thing. I've lost my passport! I don't know how it happened, but I've searched my entire home, and it's nowhere to be found. Mind you, I've been looking since November, so if I haven't found it by now, it must be gone.

So I got all the application forms, and I must take a new picture, and find every other form of ID and proof that I exist that ever, well, existed. It is a cumbersome task, and it's really taught me a lesson. Though by personality I tend to be cluttered and loving it, there are some things that need to be organized. This paper trail colonoscopy is not my favorite way of spending a weekend.

Of course, as soon as I get a new passport, guess what will pop up on the kitchen table.

If You Can't Be With The One You Love..

Love the one you're with!

Poetry Lovers Take Note

Gotham Book Mart, on 46th Street between Madison and 5th, is a fantastic shop in many ways. I'll talk more about it later, but I just wanted to mention their poetry section is satisfying! So many different unknown favorites and familiar names. Though it's only down the block from Barnes and Noble, I think it will last in this location because it's been in Midtown since the 20's and is still flourishing. Plus, though I love B & N, there are things you just can't find there....like old books, a whole section dedicated to James Joyce, and more. If only they had a little coffee shop.

Go With No Flo

(I know the picture is a little bit dark...it's the only one I have.)

I walk up and down 30th Avenue quite often. Most of the time, when I pass Flo, the new cafe on 38th Street, I see people smoking in the window. I know that in the summer there is outside seating, and during the winter they cover this portion in some plastic enclosure to keep the customers coming. Even though this area tends to be the "smoking section", it still annoys me. It is indoors during this time, hence it should be no smoking! Personally, it wouldn't bother me too much if it wasn't for the plethora of places on 30th Avenue, and also Broadway, where people get away with smoking. And the smokers are usually young people, who should know better. It's not the 1930s, when all the hip happening people were seen languidly puffing away at cigarettes...not to mention the fact that many of these folks died of cancer (does anyone remember the Yul Brynner commerical in the 80s?)

Anyway, it's really not cool, in fact it looks stupid, and they are cutting into my personal enjoyment. I put up with a lot in the past, for instance interning in a place where everyone smoked in the office. Within three months I was asthmatic (I am not kidding), my face was riddled with acne, and my hair was disgusting. I even dealt with waiting in the doctor's office when I was eight with horrendous strep throat, while someone smoked in the waiting room...how about trying to drink a vanilla milk shake in a diner and not enjoying the taste because someone else was savoring their cigarette?! What about karaoke night at Chelsea Piers, where my mediocre singing sank into hoarse cackling? Obviously I was relieved when New York restaurants and bars came under the no smoking laws.

I feel bad that some people are struggling with their addiction. I work with perfectly nice people who have to step outside frequently for their smoking breaks. Still, I am extremely relieved that I am rarely exposed to smoke, and I suppose that I'll just have to boycott those spots in Astoria or otherwise where people have no concern for the health or sanity of their fellow humans. Take a deep breath.....

Simple Pleasures

Zeno gets a kick out of toilet paper.

Life is good.

Comfort Food...Oh Never Mind

Yesterday I was off for Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. Bon and I decided to spend the afternoon downtown at the lovely Teany. This would be especially nice as she had never been there before. Plus, afternoon tea is a great form of comfort food, and I felt the special need to gorge as a result of my grief from last week. I mean, if I can't fill the void Sino has left, I may as well fill my belly.

Alas, Teany was not open. Of course, we never thought to call ahead...Florida all over again! It turns out Teany is only opened Friday - Sunday. How is that possible? I suppose business is good enough for Mr. Moby on the weekend, but it was our loss. Actually, many restaurants are closed on Monday - I'm glad that's not my usual day off anymore. Many many businesses were closed on the Lower East Side yesterday, all of the ones I'd intended to visit. So, in the chilly weather, we trudged uptown (once we figured out which way was uptown, what ditzes, man.)

On the way up we passed by the Ortiz Funeral Home, where they were having a wake for the poor little girl Nixmary Brown, who was molested and beat until she died. There were lines around the block trying to get into the funeral home, and news cameras, everything. How sad.

We didn't hang around, being hungry to the point of dizziness. After some searching, we decided to eat at Khyber Pass in St. Marks Place. Our food was extremely tasty. It sort of made up for Teany, but I wasn't truly satiated till I got to Union Square. We both had hot chocolate and biscotti and Whole Foods. I do recommend the Lemon Blueberry Biscotti. So the afternoon was not a total loss. When life hands you a lemon, make a biscotti! (very corny)

I still miss Sino.

Cinnamon ("Sino"), 1993-2006

My first cat, Cinnamon, died peacefully last night at the veterinary office. He's been in decline for quite some time, and losing weight rapidly. It was a hard decision to let him go; he was such a good companion and saw us through many hard times. But it would have been selfish to let him suffer for weeks on and on, without hope. I'm going to miss him so much, for his playfulness and cuddliness and the softest fur in the world. And he brought my Dad so much happiness when he needed it most. I'll never forget my big boy, the one who turned me into a cat person.
I love you, Sine.

London Photos (con't)

I look drunk (but I'm not!) in front of a Persian wall relief, or whatever they call it. Apparently it was in one of the palaces where Queen Esther may have passed on occasion (not Madonna).

My lovely sisters by Somerset House on the Strand.

But Wait, There's More!

Me not getting nauseous on the London double decker bus! (I think they don't have them anymore, what a shame).

Me being a photographer of flora and fauna in Notting Hill, and dressed just as brightly as my subject it seems.

Bon and I in Balham, heading toward the Clapham South Station.

Bon and I about the enter the Muffin Man. Cream tea!

Lush, what can I say?