it's a great life, if you don't weaken (matociquala) wrote,
it's a great life, if you don't weaken

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god, you know, it's hard to keep the fighting clean

Obviously, now that I have unboxed my new steamer (the same as the old steamer, a Black and Decker that I originally got when I still lived in the garret on Charter Oak Street with ladegard, which conservatively puts its age at ~12 years, so I guess replacing a thirty-dollar piece of equipment that I use almost daily it isn't such a blow as all that), made tea, cleaned out the hutch, bagged up about twenty-five old empty tea tins and put them away in the hall closet, and sorted and thrown away a cache of old mail from 2007, the next step is to take a nice long shower, because I still have not written a word.

Come on, boys, give me some sugar.

This sorting and cleaning has led me to a couple of discoveries.

1) Oh, yeah, the ice cream maker. That's where that went. Tomorrow I should get peaches and make ice cream while peaches are still in season.

2) Yes, I know I have a birthday coming up. Please, don't buy me tea. I know, it seems like an easy gift idea, and you can tell yourself "Well, at least she can use the tins." Except really it's not. Because I'm terribly fussy about what tea I drink, and I generally buy my own, mail order, in vast quantities from and, and I don't drink tea in bags except for when I am at conventions or one Sunday a month when I go to Fall River for a D&D game, and see above, the ~25 empty tea tins I just cleaned out of the hutch. (It might have been thirty.)

No, really, please god. No more tea. Because if you send it, I will guiltily attempt to drink it, and that will keep me from getting through the vast quantities of tea already in my tea cabinet (Yes, I have an entire tea cabinet) which is slowly going stale because I keep guiltily drinking other tea I don't actually like as much. Exceptions to this rule: kelliem, the Russian stuff you sent was awesome. Of course, I bought more when I finished it, and haven't gotten through the second tin yet because of Tea Guilt....

Vicious cycle.

3) I have got to break down and buy a dust buster, because the floor robot does not do crevices or corners or the bit behind the power strip under the computer table. I keep asking my mother for a dust buster for my birthday, and instead she buys me tea.*

4) Nor do I actually need a new teapot, though I do keep wishing the blue one from Target would break so I can get one I like more. Alas, the old hideous ugly white china one with the giant cabbage roses and the cracked-and-much-glued lid, which I did like in spite of it looking like the pride of your great-grandmother's china collection, broke instead. This is not really a tragedy, however, as I still have the glass one with the infuser basket that's good for green and white tea (the infuser basket does not allow black tea to expand sufficiently, however, and you can't use it without the basket because of the design of the lid) and the blue one from Target with the stupid hollow handle that gets hot, and the black cast iron Japanese tetsubin. And the tiny little black one-serving one that I am pretty sure stillnotbored sent me as a housewarming present, unless that was also kelliem.

In my lifetime, I have now broken three teapots, I think. I had the Japanese one with the black and red dragons that I bought in Provincetown when The Jeff and I were dating, which had a long and happy life as netcurmudgeon-and-my Midnight Teapot of choice. (I still have two of the cups that went with it, though.) I had the plain green earthenware one very much along the lines of a Brown Betty, which held about ten cups of tea and saw me through two apartments and part of my stay in Las Vegas, before I realized that it was mineralizing around the cracks and I should probably throw it away before the day when I filled it with ten cups of boiling water and it exploded. And there was the abovementioned Hideous Monstrosity with the cabbage roses, which was a gift from my former mother in law and made excellent tea, and poured really well.

Yes. I'm hard on the furniture. I am still on my first electric kettle, though. At umpteen years and counting.

And now it's time for that shower, and then possibly some further displacement activity, or maybe actual work.


*This joke unfair to my mother, who actually has not bought me tea in quite some time.
Tags: almost but not entirely unlike tea

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