*slurp* I’ve been making turmeric-ginger-cinnamon-honey tea. Boiling it up in a sauce-pot on the hob and then straining it through a sieve. Its actually pretty good. Although it looks like tea your progeny might bring you when they’ve added sand (and bits of twig) to pool-water, which is then presented to you with the careful reverence usually reserved for Earl Grey in fine China.
I can feel the health coursing through my intestinal tract. Infusing my cells with… well probably a vaguely yellow daub or tint. Turmeric, despite all its much vaunted health benefits is not doing my wardrobe any favors. (I am notoriously careless in the kitchen)
Good thing I don’t leave the house anymore. Well other than to pick up the children and shop for groceries. But I figure as long as the stains on the front of my jeans can’t be tentatively (by the casual observer) identified as sperm, I’ll probably be okay. I mean it could be toothpaste. Or mayonnaise. My mind tends to gravitate towards the worst case scenario. (we are NOT shaking that motherfuckers hand*) Although why my eyes wander down to the crotch area of people I’m interacting with is another matter entirely.
* This Corona thing has been great for needlessly gross social interactions. Hopefully something that won’t be making a comeback. The amount of spermatozoa coating the average male hand is, in my opinion, unreasonably high. Worse even than the urine to bar countertop peanuts ratio… which is usually my go-to benchmark for vileness.
In any event, having now imbibed my health and wellness for the day I’m chasing it down with an Ethiopian Lungo, sans dairy or sucrose.
I’ve only recently started drinking Ethiopian specific coffee. Historically I am not a coffee snob and really I’ve never cared what regional child laborer picked the beans, as long as it tastes good.
BUT… maybe I do want to become a coffee snob. Now that I’m reaching the midpoint of my life. I feel its important to have… eh… things that you can become increasingly pedantic and evangelical about. Maybe I’ll even develop some ethical concerns and pay more for coffee that comes from a plantation that doesn’t flog its slaves… I mean staff.
One step at a time though, taking on too much responsibility at this point feels onerous. To my mental health I mean. I already recycle. Lets not charge headlong into anything too radical and fringe.
Ha, you might be able to tell I have nothing to do. With Europe having moved over to winter time I’m an hour in front of Frankfurt. And two hours ahead of London. Which means I’ve got time to kill before my mainstay markets open. Its messing with my carefully crafted morning routine.
I’m also half-heartedly perusing trucks on Fords website on my other screen. On my note-pad I’ve scrawled a basic pros and cons list. The Wrangler, is… well… its the most unpractical family car ever made. I can’t lie to myself about that. But its also been the most fun car I’ve had.
A truck would make more sense. With kids and dogs and bikes and kayaks. (I go back and edit this to make sure kids come before the dogs…) Just throw everything into the bed and then hose it out when you’re done mucking about.
The mock up I’ve built online gives me deep sense of eh… *deep exhale* redneck. Dark paint job with black rims. I am equal parts mortified and tight smiles. I close my browser. I’m not ready to make this kind of “what vehicular transport defines me as a person” decision.
Maybe closer to the time.
Also a German buying ANOTHER American car? What the actual hell has happened to you Joey?