Tea For Two

Did you hear about the guy who went blind, drinking tea??  He forgot to take the spoon out of the cup.  😉

The wife and I watch a couple of English cop series on the Brit Box channel.  Wherever British detectives go to interview people, they request, or are offered, tea.  Anything from a cracked-mug ‘cuppa’ at the marina welding shop, to silver-service, delicate Royal Doulton china, with scones and clotted cream, and crust-removed cucumber sandwich triangles, at the manor.

British cops must have bladders as big as the Chinese spy-balloons that the Americans recently shot down.  I don’t know how any mystery ever gets solved, with the amount of time that they spend drinking tea with suspects.  According to these videos, the British have tea-trucks, the way western Americans have taco trucks.

I drank tea when I was younger.  As a good Scottish woman, my mother would boil water for tea before she put a roast in the oven for supper and started peeling potatoes.  By the time it came to drink it, you could tap-dance across the surface, and you couldn’t leave even stainless steel spoons in it too long before the tannic and other acids put some extra iron in your diet.

Rivergirl recently published a post about her husband’s latest quirk of drinking green tea.  Green tea is good for you.  It’s full of anti-oxidants.  It just has all the dash and body of No-Name facial tissue.  Most green tea tastes like a summer rain fell on a new-mowed lawn.  Her hubby managed to find a special (read – far more expensive) brand of green tea at the commissary, that promised ‘more character.’  It tastes like there was a grass fire before the lawn was mowed and the warm rain fell on it.

We drink just over two liters/quarts of iced tea/sweet tea per day.  I make it up and refrigerate it in a plastic pitcher, using a powdered lemon/tea mix.  I use enough to make 1 ½ quarts, and add two cups of green tea that has steeped for 12 to 24 hours.  It dilutes the sugar content and adds health benefits, while disguising the lack of taste.

I’m glad I finally got this post about tea finished.  I gotta go pee.  I’ll be back soon.  Feel free to pour yourself a cup of tea from the pot.  It’s Salada Orange Pekoe – which is a black tea that bewilders British ex-pats.  And don’t get me started on chai.  😕

How Close To Death Were You?

The Quora website offers a bunch of interesting questions – and some fascinating answers.

Almost every one of us has had at least one time in their life when they narrowly escaped Death, unless they were raised like The Boy in the Bubble, or as a marshmallow, in a bag with other marshmallows – and even marshmallows are constantly under threat of being made into Rice Krispy Squares.

One would think that any brush with Death would be overt, obvious, noticeable, and memorable!  The big truck that ran the red light, and whistled by, inches from your car’s nose, instead of into your door, is unforgettable.  Certainly the time that my own cousin pushed me into eight feet of water before I could swim, as a joke, and then had to dive in and drag me out, has not been forgotten.  The time my brother put a hole in a wall, a foot from my head, with a shotgun, is still fresh in my memory.

The time that I was perhaps the closest to dying horrifically, while interesting, was so quiet and restrained that it was a long time after, before I realized just how close it had been.

When I first came to this burgh from my hometown for employment, half a century ago, I was only one of many.  Some of us quickly got jobs, and acquired cars.   Many of us didn’t.  If I wanted to go home for a weekend, I had a list of people that I could call.  One Sunday night, I got a ride back with two cousins, one who owned and drove an old car.

There were to be six of us in this sedan.  Already running late, the last was to be picked up in the next town to the south.  The East/West highway from there to our North/South route curved northward, around a bend in the river.  The other highway then curved back West, before turning south.  If we took a county road across the narrow bottom of a triangle, we could save five miles of driving, and five minutes of time.

Soon, we were humming along at 70/75 MPH.  Halfway across, there was an old cast-iron bridge over a narrow river tributary.  The Highway Department had decided that it needed replacing with a modern, concrete span.  They had bulldozed a gravel access road beside it, down the bank and across a pontoon bridge.

Our pilot  driver never even slowed down. He just cranked the steering wheel, and down we went.  Six passengers, each with some sort of luggage, this old vehicle was wallowing on its springs.

KA-THWUMP!

Up onto this floating monstrosity we went.  Before seatbelts, six heads made dents in the overhead roof-liner.  Annnndd….

KA-THWUMP!

Off we plunged.  And six sore tailbones were driven somewhere up near our shoulder blades!

A half a mile up the road, our chauffeur realized that he could watch the gas gauge unwind.  Something that we had smacked into, had punched a hole in our fuel tank, and we were spewing gasoline on the road behind us.  (Cue the exploding airplane scene from Diehard 2)

We were extremely lucky that whatever had poked the hole, had not also stuck a spark.  Even now, a hot exhaust pipe, or a cigarette, casually tossed from a passing car, could turn us into a hurtling mass of S’mores.  We continued at high speed back to his parents’ home, and got there with drops of fuel left.  He managed to borrow a car for a week, and we were all so glad that we would get back – late, but back – to the big city that night, that it was long after before I realized just how close our call had been.

Comment on your own adventure, or use this story as a prompt to write your own death-defying tale.  I’m going to put my asbestos underwear on, and check the fire extinguisher.  See you in a couple of days.  😳

‘18 A To Z Challenge – C

Challenge '18 Letter C

Druid

My Scottish ancestors were doing just fine, until the Christians came along with fire and sword.

Caim – (n.) Sanctuary. An invisible circle of protection drawn around the body with the hand, to remind one of being safe and loved even in the darkest times.  The index finger of the right hand was to be extended and pointed at the ground to do this.  It was to be drawn clockwise, as God has made the sun and moon rise and set.

The Irish and my Scottish Celtic ancestors lived a naturalistic existence, close to the earth, the plants and the wildlife.  Then along came the Christians.  They would have none of this mystical hand-waving.  They wanted their own brand of mystical hand-waving.

First, the spelling and pronunciation was slurred to ‘Cain.’  In their mythology, Cain was the first murderer, and an evil person, a servant of Satan.  No-one was allowed to be saved or protected by such an evil spirit.  Union rules said that all such work went to Jesus.  The word ‘Caim’ still exists in the Scottish language, but it now describes a Christian prayer for protection.

The Celts were already well aware of the motions of the sun and the moon, but the Christian ‘God’ even creeps into the historical definition, by making them do so.  I noted that the definition is Northern-centric.  In the Northern hemisphere, the apparent movements of the sun and moon are clockwise, from left to right.

When this word was born, the Christians had not yet invaded the Southern Hemisphere, where the counter-clockwise, widdershins, motion of the Heavenly bodies was obvious, and correct.  I wonder what the Christians would think of that??  (Oops, I used the words ‘think’ and ‘Christian’ in the same sentence.)  😯

Click here http://branawen.blogspot.ca/2011/09/celtic-symbolism-casting-ring-of.html caim, if you’d like to have a look at the research for this.

I’ll have a little bit of lighter humor in a week.  Hope to see you there.

 

Flash Fiction 46

fire-roger-bultot

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

FOUR ALARM

Bob had been born and raised in Titusville PA, and had worked for a Pennsylvania oil company after graduating.  Two years after a transfer to Austin, he still wasn’t sure he wanted to stay in Texas.  It was hot and dusty – but the food was great!

He’d always liked Tex-Mex food.  It came as a surprise when he’d invited his neighbor, Pecos, over for Sunday brunch.

“Never cottoned much to that beaner food.  Steak and potatoes is good enough for me.”

“Perhaps you’d better start with Huevos Rancheros, they’re mild….!!?  Easy!  You’re not putting ketchup on fries – that’s Habanera sauce!”

Go to Rochelle’s Addicted to Purple site and use her Wednesday photo as a prompt to write a complete 100 word story.

That’s Funny

First, just a little piece of advice I picked up for KayJai, SparkleBumps, and maybe a few more of you Betty Ford AWOLs.

 

NOTICE TO ALL EMPLOYEES

Nobody minds a man having a morning eye-opener, and it’s okay to have a bracer around 10 A.M., and maybe a couple of drinks with lunch.  Also, a few beers on a hot afternoon will keep a person healthy, or at least happy.  Of course, everyone drinks at cocktail hour, and a person can’t be criticized for having some wine with dinner, a liquor afterwards, and a highball or two during the evening – but this damned business of  SIP, SIP, Sip, all day long HAS GOT TO STOP!

 

Before they decide how much lumber they will need to build a house, the carpenters usually get together and have a board meeting.

A seamstress is a real material girl!

Sign at the Acme Shoelace Company ~ We are truly fit to be tied.

Jockey: My racehorse is named FleaBag.

Bettor: Has he won a lot of races?

Jockey: Nah!  He keeps getting scratched.

 

Buying quality is like buying hay.  If you want nice, clean, fresh hay, you must pay a fair price.  However, if you can be satisfied with hay that has already been through the cow – THAT COMES A LITTLE CHEAPER!

 

Up in Heaven, the Pearly Gates had been replaced by two arched, golden doors, with signs above them.  The one to the left read, “The Wrong Religion,” and there was no-one at it.  The one to the right read, “The Right Religion,” and there was a long line of people, waiting to get through.  God said to St. Peter, “The stupid thing is, none of them get the joke!”

NEWS RELEASE

Recently, an airliner crashed in the Pacific, close to an uninhabited island.  The survivors consisted of…

Two American businessmen and their secretary

Two French businessmen and their secretary

Two Italian businessmen and their secretary

Two British businessmen and their secretary

Two Canadian businessmen and their secretary

Knowing they would be stranded for some time, the two Americans made a schedule to have their secretary as follows: the first American would have her Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.  The other would have her Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, and she would have Sundays to herself.

The two Frenchmen had no problems, and immediately established a “ménage a trois.”

The two Italians had no problem either, as one of them shot the other so he could have the secretary all to himself.

The two British also had no problems, as they shot the secretary, so as to have each other.

And….the two Canadians are still waiting for instructions from head-office.

READ BETWEEN THE LINES

The “Executive Vocabulary” can be a little confusing.  Here’s a list of definitions which should help you get through your day.

Orientation; Move around till we can find something you can do.

Consolidating our position in the marketplace; We didn’t make any money on it.

Unparalleled demand; Six orders in the mail.

Note and initial; Let’s spread the responsibility for this around.

For your consideration; You hold the bag for a while.

We’re making a survey; We need more time to think up an answer.

For your approval; Passing the buck.

For your comment; I don’t have the faintest idea myself.

Through the ranks; The boss’s son worked one summer in the shipping department.

Promising young executive; Son of a fraternity brother.

Co-ordinator; An executive with a desk between two expeditors.

Implement a program; Hire more people, and expand the office.

Middle management; An executive with his own pen and pencil set, but no water pitcher.

I never worked at an office which had a gym or a fitness program.  I always got my exercise by jumping to conclusions, flying off the handle, running the boss down, passing on rumors, stabbing co-workers in the back, dodging responsibility, and pushing my luck.  How’s your workday going??!

 

After The Fun

I went to have my fangs resharpened again yesterday.  I might go an entire lifetime without hearing the name “Ariel”, unless I rented Disney’s Little Mermaid.  In the half-hour I spent beneath Damocles’ TV, I heard about two, Ariel Sharon, ex-prime minister of Israel, and Ariel Castro, the Ohio kidnapper who hanged himself.  (Although, I wonder if he had just a bit of assistance?)

We went back to the Farmers’ Market this morning.  With a bit of pickling mixture left over, the wife wondered if we could put down a few baby dills.  Scrubbed and soaked tonight.  Tomorrow comes the boiling.

There was a broadcast van from CTV, Canada’s second network, as well as from CHCH-TV, out of Hamilton Ontario, an independent which bills itself as Canada’s Superstation, like Atlanta, in the same way Tonka Trucks are big-rigs like Peterbilts.

Two camera crews wandering around, I saw a woman, probably a real shopper, but practising her lines before being dragged into camera range for a “spontaneous”, man-on-the-street….or woman-at-the-market interview.

Elbow-to-elbow crowds, which would be good if they were there to shop, but many just wanted photos or videos.  A food-service area, with no room to swing a cat and I saw a man and a woman smoking cigarettes, and a man my age with a cigar as big as a Great Dane’s turd, and almost as fragrant.  I thought of yelling as if I’d been burned.

Ontario’s lesbian Liberal leader was on hand early, for rah-rah photo-ops.  She stopped at my favorite produce vendor, and talked a good story, but bought nothing.  Another vendor further up said she did the same at his stall.  The local male Liberal candidate finally bought a basket of tomatoes, and gave it to her.

Two big food trailers across the walkway from the fire had been seriously melted.  They were hauled away and replaced with a trailer with washrooms and a temporary Market office.  The canvas top on the French-fry-serving Conestoga wagon looked like it had been through a movie Indian attack.  The nylon top of the gazebo beyond it melted.