All posts filed under: beverages

spa day for roosters

One Fourth

Been a while.  For one thing, we’ve been, as my father likes to say, busier than one-armed paper-hangers.  (When I was 16, I actually met a one-armed paper-hanger, which added a whole extra nuance to that expression of my dad’s.  He was, in truth, a busy fellow.)  For another, it is hot and muggy and has rained enough to make me think more about building an ark than a menu.  For a third thing, the mosquitos around here are like terrorist zombie invaders, and big and numerous enough to carry off what’s left of my brain. My most note-worthy activity of the week, other than stumbling across this and being reassured that there are far loonier people in the world than me, has surely been tending to the swollen foot of our eldest rooster, Duane, who will probably hear from someone (it won’t be me) that he was already lucky not to be coq au vin at his age, and especially after this week.  But because he knows nothing of French food, when we offered …

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big teas

A little housekeeping first: the subscription link over there in the sidebar finally works. Apologies for the long time when it didn’t.  Ice packs for the lump on my head from banging it on the desk trying to fix it gratefully accepted.  I have almost every confidence that if you sign up using the new gizmo, you will actually receive an alert when I post. And believe me, you won’t want to miss even one of the intimidatingly challenging and exotic recipes you have come to expect here. To wit, today’s offering: a cup of tea. “You may have noticed,” said my son this morning, “that I have begun to really like toast.” He comes by it honestly. There is a long double genetic line of inheritance behind this fondness of his, with both parents coming from toast-centric households. It’s only a mild understatement to say that in my opinion, buttered toast and hot tea are two of the cornerstones of a nice life, as well as two of the most direct routes to re-establishing …

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love wednesday

  The first thing that happened this morning was that a dove perched on the window by the head of my bed and did some cooing.  This sounds like a lovely way to wake up.  Sounds can be deceiving, or more accurately in this case, sounds can be profoundly irritating and make you wonder if some doves are not as capable of higher cognitive processing as other doves.  Scratch, thud, rustle: now scrabbling to get a comfortable foothold on the window above the bed, now thumping (headfirst, it sounds like, maybe?) inelegantly into the siding over by the door.  Now back to the window!  Coo, coo, coo!  Now I am flying off…back again!  Again with the coo, coo, coo!  Are you up?  It’s your mid-week bonus day to sleep in–just came to tell ya!  Coo! So I was ready indeed to recalibrate the morning, and the little note from my boy did just that.  I asked him what he wanted for breakfast, and without hesitation he told me “a milkshake and salad.”  Those sounds are …

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