Before I begin my rant, here is a brag. My beautiful Grand nephew. He looks good enough to eat! He is 6 moths old now. No wonder he is the Star of the Family!
I am not a tea drinker, apart from herbal teas.
My mother was one of the last of the great tea drinkers. Now I suspect my Beloved Brother IS the last of the great tea drinkers.
What better way to procrastinate for hours, sitting sucking up gallons of tea. Vile brown stuff that it is. Then you can spend the next few hours looking for places to empty the 'used' product, so to speak. He loves his tea so much it can interfere with travel plans. Given half a chance he will remain another hour or so drinking "Just one more pot of tea". Being the bossy elder sister, I have been known to head him off at the pass, as it were, rushing to unplug the jug of water, or declaring loudly that "NO" he is not going to make just one more pot of tea.
I used not to mind tea. Weak & black. A dainty thin slice of lemon was nice, the way my Grandmother liked it. It had to be freshly brewed too. When I became pregnant with my daughter, I began to vomit at very strange times, & finally worked out I had become sickened by tea. Never did take to it after that.
My mother's generation seemed to live on Tea. They would make pots of tea, & sit around talking & drinking for hours. I didn't like the taste until I got to be a late teenager, but I really preferred coffee.
You could be frowned upon for asking for coffee, since at one stage you almost needed a bank loan to buy coffee!
My mother was thin most of her life, & I swear the strong black tea she drank, probably took away her appetite. Towards the end of her life, she could not take it too strong, & she had cut down on her intake. She would enjoy a weak coffee, with milk, though once all her drinks were strong & taken black.
I do think she is right about one of her preferrances. My mother always said the cup or mug made a difference to the taste of the tea, & I do now believe she was right. I have recently got myself a new cup, it is nice bone china, & I seem to prefer to take my herbal tea, as well as my black coffee out of that cup. I like the whiteness of it's inside. I like the delicate little violets on the outside.
I don't have a tantrum if it is not available, & I still like the black Weiss mug my daughter gave me many moons ago, for coffee. I have several decorative teapots, but they never get used for actual tea. If friends want tea we have it, & Gom drinks it every now & then. I try to drink lots of water now, instead of hot drinks.
Gom has stomped off downstairs in a huff. He is doing his displacement activity of retiring in wounded silence to play Cher at the top volume. I used to not mind a little Cher, but have gone right off her since Gom adopted her as his security blanket. haha.
Yesterday we bathed Leo, & he was not impressed. He got away as soon as he was able, & before clipping could take place. He needs to be clipped again, as it is getting quite hot some days. He is ok with his face being clipped but his feet are out of bounds, & he hates his tail feathers being brushed or clipped. Honey is ok, she takes her bath with a resigned air, & will stand a fair amount of clipping.
Our daughter came up with SG last evening, & it was nice to spend time with them, though SG flies close to the wind with his taunts to his Grandfather. They don't always see eye to eye, & there is not that helpless devotion that was there for our granddaughter, sadly.
Though there has been little quilty content here lately- lost the Mojo again- I do still think about it all the time. I do believe that once you become a quilter, it completely changes the way you view the world.
Patterns for quilts leap out to the eye. Colour combinations strike you as being quiltable- or not.
I bless the internet for allowing me access to so many varied quilting styles & ideas. I just need to employ some of them!!
In other news, I sourly view the politics of the world, & feel sickened, at the way the sycophants of certain would-be Political Bigs, flock about those people like blowflies about fresh cow dung. I cant apologise for that, because that is how I see them. Support is one thing, but dotage is quite another.
Cat Stevens, Wild World.
PS. I had to edit this post. I had labelled it gogreous baby! Just could not leave that!