I used to start my day with a cup of tea. Or four.
I liked it black and steeped until the astringent liquid would hit my tongue and jolt me into wakefulness.
I liked it hot in my hands before it was cool enough to drink.
I slopped it over the sides of my tea cup on the way down the driveway in the morning and figured the wet pants were a small price to pay.
I had extra cups on cold winter days and slow days and sad days and grumpy days. I had extra cups in celebration of warm mornings and happy occasions and book reading afternoons.
I always used to start my day with a cup of tea, or six.
But now… having become fairly intolerant of excessive amounts of caffeine, I start my day with a cup of Mud.
MUD/WTR, as it is officially known, is lovely in a chocolaty dirt sort of way. I drink it with a bit of honey and milk. It’s warm and soothing and the bottom of the cup always contains an extra layer of gritty bitter sediment that if I close my eyes and squint as I knock the last bit back, I can almost pretend is akin to the tang of tea.
My morning mud is filled with mushrooms and turmeric and other things that are supposed to be great for me and most importantly just a smidgen of caffeine.
Nowadays tea gives me the attention span of a rabid squirrel with ADD if consumed in any amount that seems proper. Mud is like getting a warm hug in the morning and I’ve grown to love that hug (I’m big on hugs lately).
I used to start my day with a cup of tea or eight.
I’m no stranger to pulling my own cookies out of the pantry. Grown ass woman that I am, not only can I help myself to cookies, I have been known to bake a batch (okay, a double batch) of cookies just because I wanted one.
But just because I can do it, doesn’t mean my grumpy heart doesn’t melt when my husband pulls out a tiny mug of milk and two cookies for us to share.
We have never been big movie watchers. There always seems to be somewhere to go, or something to do, or someone to see… or at least there was.
Lately we’ve instituted a once a week movie night. And while it is nice to watch a movie more than once every six months the actual reason we started it was for the snuggle time. The girls have all been in need of more hugs and more cuddles, (Who hasn’t?) and everyone, even the teenager, wants “just two minutes of snuggling” at bedtime.
So now once a week we all pile on the couch, the dogs and cats are optional and frequent add-ons, and re-charge our snuggle-meters. And if we enjoy a movie in the process, so much the better.
Where is your snuggle-meter at these days and do you have a family movie recommendation?
Despite the popular misconception that geese, and ganders in particular, are jerks, I am here to report that of my veritable menagerie of animals this guy is the only one that wasn’t causing problems today.
Of course if you have a bath to yourself under beautiful blue skies on an unseasonably warm day, what do you have to be grumpy about?
Gratitude prompt #7: “A friend or something that reminds you of a friend.”
Of course I don’t plan these days ahead of time. That’s never how I work and, as most days mid-pandemic, actual in-person photographable/selfieable friends were in short supply.
“No problem” says I to myself. I’ll just find something interesting in the house that reminds me of a friend to photograph. I started looking around.
Now, it’s completely possible that the fact that I:
A) don’t really “decorate” my house per say and
B) am terrible at buying non-functional things for myself.
And this has something to do with the fact that nearly everything I looked at reminded me of a friend.
I have art from friends on some walls and art gifted by friends on others. There are plants by the windows that were given by friends and plants that were delivered by friends. The capoeira instruments in the corner were made with friends and are played with friends. The mugs on the shelves are gifted from friends, the piano was my best friend’s grandma’s. The light in the corner is connected to another friend’s light in another state. There is a stuffed bee from a blogger I’ve never met in real life and a necklace hangs by the mirror from another that I have…
And on my bed is a stuffed bunny. One of those ridiculously round and unbelievably soft squishmallo types. It came to me early in covid on my birthday with a note “Since I can’t give you hugs.”
I hugged my bunny. I took its picture and I looked around my house filled to the brim with “hugs” from friends whichever way I looked.
Maybe its that I’m a terrible interior decorator but I like to think it’s just that I have excellent taste in friends.