One of the folks I follow in the blogosphere has been on a year-long quest to thin-out the stuff pile. Starting in January, every day she's been getting rid of a little something that she doesn't need hanging about anymore. 365 less things in the stuff pile at the end of the year. I can dig that. I don't quite have Katy's dedication, but I admire the impulse.
I have three tea sets. My nicest set was recently passed on to me by my mother and was originally my Grandma Beth’s. It’s a Royal Albert set of bone china. Quite proper and very beautiful. A few years ago, my mother-in-law gifted me with a set from her family: a rather large and charming casual set of blue stoneware, plump and portly. They feel good in your hands. I frequently pull them out when I have company.
It's amazing how much a cup of tea can improve my disposition at work. It's been a busy day--a busy couple of days actually--and an hour ago I was counting down the minutes until I could split. I was starting to fade a bit and decided on a cup of tea and a snack. Now I'm sipping peppermint tea and chugging along through my work, happily enough that here I am at quitting time and I've decided to bank an extra half hour and finish up this project I'm working on.
Waiting in the Sacramento airport the other day with grumbling tummies, my mom and I headed over to a Java City counter. Mom ordered a latté for her and one for Dad. I stepped up to the counter. "Excuse me, do you have chai?"
The lady behind the counter said, "No, but we have soy."
Mom and I stared at her, blinked, and then stared at each other. Blink blink.
In my head I ran through a scenario where I walk into a cafe: