Category Archives: Uncategorized

Uncategorized

Cat Fights and Work

Leave a comment

I heard snarling and ghastly howl come through my window on one beautiful sunny day in the middle of my work week, sheltering in place and working from home. The type of day where just walking outside and standing in the sun under  blue skies blanketing the earth, created a sense of peace and well-being.  Who could be screaming and howling? Creating drama like this in the middle of such a beautiful day?  The street was sleepy and quiet, there was no wind and even the palms were  stilled from their usual swishing and swaying in the gentle afternoon breeze.

I rushed to the window and peeked through the blinds. Three cats were positioned in a circle in my front yard. Their  backs arched and their hair standing on end creating spiky war Mohawks.  There was an old, tough looking orange tabby. His fur was smeared with dark grease and dust from the alleys and back yards.  There was a huge plush Norwegian Forest Cat with green eyes and then a short haired gray and white tuxedo cat. They hunched down, tense, cowering letting out a sporadic moan, or howl.  They cringed and slowly slunk away from each over the course of several minutes.  Eventually, they backed down and slunked away, giving up the fight. Dispelling all their plans to engage in open, violent warfare with one another.  

Our kitten watched from the window. Did he remember his last fight? When he was only 3 months old,  a random alleycat had delivered deep scratches and bites. His recovery consisted of  three visits to the vet, pain meds, antibiotics and wearing a cone for six weeks. He healed well and seemed ready and wanting to jump into the fray again. They kept coming around even jumping on to the outside ledges of the house to look in at him through the windows.   I bent to look out the window and a tabby glared in at me and howled. I was somewhat offended.  What gaul, to hiss at me while I was in my house!  I stepped away and went back to work.  The mornings carried on like this. Cats venturing into our yard, random howls and screeching, heralding spring and the time for cats to emerge and stake out their summertime turf.  Territories the would be filled with adventure, mating  and languishing in the hot days to come.  

Uncategorized

The Country Tea Room

Leave a comment

Photo by Rachel Cheng on Unsplash

Many years ago, there was a  little country tea room in Temecula.  The tea room was in an old,  white,  flat- roofed cottage by the river that ran parallel to Temecula’s Old Town.  Nearby there were several great antique stores for browsing and looking for treasures. You could have a lovely afternoon tea and then just walk a few blocks and immerse yourself in the history of Old Town and the ambience of Southern California Old West Outpost. 

My Mom and I decided to take my daughter and nieces there for tea.  It was my eldest niece’s birthday and we thought it would be a fun way to celebrate.  When you first walked in there was a small foyer with several mirrors and a variety of hats on several hat stands.  The tradition was to pick a hat that you wanted to wear for tea, give a try and then when everyone was happy with their choice, to proceed to your table for tea. The tea room had several tables of different sizes and shapes laid with embroidered and lace tablecloths and mismatched china tea sets.  There were porcelain teacups decorated with flowers and patterns and some gilded with gold or silver.  Small vases, each filled with a posy took centerstage on each table. 

Once we were seated we took a look at each other and began to chat and laugh about our hats and why we had chosen the different styles. Eventually the waitress came over and took our order. We each chose a different flavor of tea that came in it’s own china teapot. We also ordered scones with curdled cream and jam As we sipped and talked, time was suspended, it was no longer 1997.  We were Victorian ladies gathered together to enjoy an afternoon of conversation and pleasure. Once we were full, it was time to bring our tea to a close.   We decided to go for a walk, a little antiquing and headed out.  As we strolled we chatted more, talked about how great the tea room was and stowed our memories away in our shopping bags.  The most important things that we brought home in those bags that day were the memories of a little old western tea room, favorite stories told over and over again and a day more sweet than any other.

Things I love about tea: 

  1. Tea is delicious.
  2. Making tea is relaxing and fun.
  3. Life with tea is the best life ever. 
  4. There is almost always something new and exciting in the world of tea. 
  5. We can experience the world through it’s teas. Tea is a world experience.

Photo by Jojo Yuen on Unsplash

Uncategorized

Made With Love

Leave a comment

Photo by Raoul Ortega on Unsplash

Maison Clairvoy 

One of the greatest gifts I ever received were my dance shoes from Maison Clairvoy. The shoes themselves were not gifts and the cost was deducted from my salary that I earned as a cabaret dancer. The gift was the opportunity to have dance shoes made by hand with extreme precision and skill to fit my foot exactly and provide a strong base to dance from. A fit that was meant to cradle the foot in comfort while withstanding and supporting an enormous amount of torque and pressure created by human muscles and mass to perform athletic movement.  Dance shoes created by one of the greatest artisan workshops in the history of the world. I was lucky enough to have two pairs. One for the Can Can and one for the more elegant numbers with feathers and rhinestones. 

When I arrived in Paris, to work exclusively for a well-known dance troupe,  one of the first things my dance director instructed me to do,  was to go to a local atelier and have my dance shoes fitted. We were rehearsing in an underground theatre.  It was a dark, cavern of a space, dank and musty. An old wooden stage took up the center of the room and was surrounded by low red velvet settees for the audience. Crystal chandeliers strategically place to capture light and reflect sparkling drops of shimmer and illumination throughout the room. One early evening, directly as rehearsal ended, our manager, walked towards me. He was a man of little words. He looked like he had stepped out of a 1940’s old Hollywood film, dressed in neatly pressed slacks and clean, crisp shirt.  An ever-present cigarette dangling from his fingertips. Smoke drifting up in misty curly cues into the blackness of the low ceiling. I quickly took a deep breath and inhaled the mysterious smoke. I wanted to take in everything I could about Paris.  Everyone smoked in the city and I wanted to understand why. I knew I had to try it- to know what the Parisiennes knew. To  find out why they loved smoking so much. The smoke was a mixture pure, unadulterated tobacco and somehow, men’s cologne. 

“Hello Darling, you will need dance shoes, here’s the address and give them this bill.”

“Do you think you can find it?” “Your dance captain will give you the time, place, name and address of the shoe maker.”

He handed me two small printed sheets of paper. Once I had the address, I found my way via Metro and my small tourist map of Paris that I keep with me at all times. The map listed the streets and arrondissements and favorite things to see and do in Paris.  Maison Clairvoy was not too far from where I was staying in Pigalle, The Red Light district.  Many of the touring dancers were booked into an auberge, well known in the dance world, in the heart of the entertainment district. The first  Parisienne cabaret, The Moulin Rouge, had come to life and still existed in this very location. It’s Red Windmill nestled among business offices, laundries, boulangeries and patisseries. Veg stands and charcuterie specialists.  Working Parisiennes from all walks of life moved carefully among the narrow sidewalks making sure to miss the dog poo that was everywhere.  The odors that rose up from the sidewalk were heady and odoriferous concoction of dog urine and feces, butchered meat, rotting veg, baking bread and perfume.  It smelled awful but I grew to love it and now decades later,  I can still smell it, just thinking of it.  Beautiful tall dazzling workers hung about the  corners of the Rue, 24 hours a days, in dresses, miniskirts and platforms.  Their faces blown up with injectable silicone and made up for any excitement that came their way. Wary and defensive towards the young girls they were attempting to emulate. But kind and helpful if you were really were in distress.  

I don’t know how I found myself navigating through a part of the world where I didn’t speak the language and it was completely foreign to me. As I remember, I was practical about it and I wanted to dance, so I figured it out. It wasn’t too difficult to understand the language or read it.  The French used the same alphabet as the English.  I found the store front with dance shoes in the window. There was a door next to it that led up a flight of old stairs.  I climbed up the stairs and was ushered into a workspace where cubbyholes stuffed with dance shoes of every kind lined the walls. A wave of warm air infused with the perfume of soft, fine leather came towards me and enveloped me.  An older gentleman greeted me. He was dressed in courdoroys and a pullover. He called his assistant over. A youngish, impossibly thin, chic woman dressed in black stovepipe slacks and a white button down work shirt.  He gave her instructions in French and motioned for me to follow her. She smiled and led me to a bench. I was quickly seated and she measured my foot from all angles and then had me try on samples of an open toed sandal with heels and and a closed toe tap shoe.  When I touched the shoes the softness of the leather was like butter and shone as a if someone had massaged the strong leather for hours to attain the beautiful sheen. The heels of each pair were solid and strong and anchored in a way that would last through years of punishment as they carried me across stages in Africa,  Europe and Scandinavia and then back home to United States.  I glanced around the workshop and saw many types of shoes for many types of dancers.  The fitting was over quickly and  I was on my way again and left the workshop.  I left the shop with a feeling of privilege to have experienced something so rare and romantic.  Knowing that I had officially entered the world of dance. The world of the Ballet Russe, The Moulin Rouge, The Lido.  I had been to the source.  Two weeks later my shoes arrived. I slipped my feet into my very one handmade dance shoes and they fit perfectly. They cradled my feet in the all the right places and felt like a solid hug from someone who loves you very much.   And then we were on our way to start our tour. Those shoes became an extension of my body and allowed me to jump, twirl, kick and land with force.  Once I had to have the straps replaced, but otherwise they withstood years of aggressive use.  A testimony to the enduring and exquisite craftsmanship of Maison Clairvoy. 

Photo by Kazua Ota

 on Unsplash

Uncategorized

A Little Bungalow And Some Work

Leave a comment

When company is coming, I start to really look around my little bungalow.  Really looking around means putting on my glasses and taking a close look.  Usually I’m in a happy cloud when in my historic home and  feeling grateful to live here surrounded by endless memories and a long fascinating history. The house is full of light that warms the lathe and plaster walls and the honied wood floors.  Memories of my children growing up and reaching milestones, celebrations, parties, having my parents over for dinner and to play games and relationships started and ended all live here.  I also think of how I came to the love this home and what a labor of love it became.  When I’m in my home, I’m reminded of the community of preservationists and members spent countless hours working on the preservation of my home and actually coming over to help me with repairs.  Spending time discussing subjects like double hung windows and how to properly size and  frame an antique  door. 

 

It’s fall now and we are headed into Winter in Southern California.  It’s been a hot Fall and the days really don’t cool off until early morning hours.  But today the clouds came in with the faint promise of rain and still have not spilled their contents.  So, I’m working on small repairs. I’ve got my 3/8″ power SKIL drill out, drill bits, a pair of needle nose pliers and working on securing screens.  It’s basic and fun, but requires concentration if it’s going to come out right. I’ve learn over the past 18 years that building and repairing requires precision and focus or it comes out all wrong.  Your time is wasted and it just doesn’t work. 

I love the work of it because it reminds me of times when I was growing up and my Dad always included us in his building projects. My parents bought an old home in the country that we restored while we lived there. We added on rooms, decks, bathrooms and restored the interior.  We worked on it ever weekend that we didn’t go camping.We would start after breakfast and each of us would have an assignment.  I usually just stood by to fetch things, but sometimes I would get hammer nails or work the electric saw. So, when I bought my own house, it was amazing to be the one in control and to figure out how I would fix things.  I bought tools and learned how to use them. I have to admit I’ve never been completely comfortable with power tools, but I learned how to use them safely.

I was fortunate because so many wonderful people that loved working on old houses offered to help me.  First and most importantly my parents and then siblings their husbands and then friends and colleagues.  The work was sometimes hot and difficult.  So Cal is hot most times of the years, when you are working on a house you end up outside quite a bit.  Just to turn off power and water, go to your shed to retrieve materials, things like that. Even though it was hot and I felt like a mess in a sweaty shirt and jeans and sweat running into my shoes, It feel good.  Often I found my arms, face and hair speckled with paint and my clothes grimy from all the crawling and digging around. I would go to bed, feeling stiff, but completely satisfied that I was accomplishing with the help of family and friends, something awesome and beautiful. The next morning you always wake up sore, but after you have some coffee and move around a bit, your body relaxes and sets itself right again.  

The work of restoring an old home is difficult, time consuming and many times frustrating, but that isn’t what this post is about.  More importantly, what restoring and old home is teamwork, community, camaraderie, fun, laughter, sharing lives and that’s what the work creates. For anyone who has worked with their hands, they now that making things and doing things by hand brings a sense of accomplishment that is so organic, it’s hard to really distinguish it as work.  

There’s alot of complaining too, but that’s the conversation and within those conversation are found antidotes and knowledge that is often not found in manuals or books.  

This introduction into restoring old homes, was an introduction into the slow life for me.  I learned about living in the moment and savoring it. To be conscious and mindful of what I was doing so the end result would be embed with a halo of pure intentions and love.  It’s been a journey,  because as human kind we tend to resist changes like these.  We have to learn to be confident and accepting of both are abilities and weaknesses.  We are compelled to accept the moment and live deeply within it.  

 

Uncategorized

Chai Pie

Happy Fall becoming Winter! This is a repost to get everyone in the mood for baking and the holidays to come-if you’re not already there!

Photo by Natalia Y on Unsplash

It was five o’clock in the morning and there was a beautiful orange pumpkin waiting for me on the kitchen table. It was my yearly ritual to buy pumpkins for myself, my son and daughter just before Halloween. The ceremonial selecting and purchasing of the cultivars; that Liberty Hyde Bailey would have been proud of, officially issued in the fall season.  Once they were collected from the local organic market,  we would precede into the holy gates of holiday land. It was a season lasting three months with four holidays in a row. Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years. It was a time of light and joy filled with giving and love. All of my favorite things in life.

Sometimes we had a carving party to create Jack O’ Lanterns and sometimes we did not. This year we decided not to carve them, but to save them to make my original recipe for Chai Pie. Chai Pie was an organic pumpkin pie with selected seasonings from a recipe for the celebrated east indian beverage, Chai. I was raised on a traditional recipe of pumpkin pie that was delicious and utilized a famous brand of processed  filling. As the years passed times changed and people were embracing natural foods and a healthy lifestyle. I happened to discover cooking with a pressure cooker during this time. I wanted to use real pumpkin to make my pie, but the process of extracting the hard meat from the core of the pumpkin didn’t seem practical. One thought led to another and the pressure cooker materialized within my mind as the solution to extracting the precious core of the orange, round, squash varietal.

So here I was, in the darkness of the early morning hours, poised with my butcher knife ready to quarter the pumpkins and submit the quarters of thick, orange, stringy flesh to the pressure cooker for a thorough steam bath. So I chopped and steamed. An earthy fragrance filled the cold, still air of my kitchen and provided an organic steam heat. My lungs filled with the nutritious air and a sense of calmness and well-being descended over my groggy person. I remembered reading somewhere that pumpkin was an aphrodisiac and responsible for the typically high birthrates in August.Thinking of this made me smile and I continued to steam away. Once the quarters were steamed and scraped and the blender filled with vibrant,steaming hot pumpkin flesh, I tipped in half a cup of evaporated milk and then it was time to mix the spices.




I loved the task of measuring and mixing the exotic spices of this dish. Each spice represented a slice of world geography. I was suddenly traveling the world without setting a foot out my front door. My plan was to mix in a teaspoon of each of the five worldly spices.

Photo by Agnieszka Kowalczyk on Unsplash
Cinnamon was first. It was the spice of kings. It was bold, luxurious and warming. Cinnamon was grown in Sri Lanka; the pearl of the Indian Ocean. A land of ancient fortresses and prehistoric mysteries.

Then it was Nutmeg’s turn. It was nutty, sweet and soft. Nutmeg was a spice that harmonized with both sweet and savory foods. It was known in the plant world as Myristica Fragrans and it was grown on the island of Grenada  in the West Indies.  Grenada was a land of windswept white beaches and clear blue waters. The wild coastline bathed in warm caribbean seas.

The third spice was ginger. Ginger was spicy, fragrant and healing. It was known throughout the world for it’s healing properties. It soothed the gastrointestinal lining and contributed to the blood stream’s immunity. It was mostly grown in China, but the highest quality of ginger was from Australia. Ginger was often considered a root, but was actually an underground stem. It was a funny and lovely spice full of juxtapositions.

My next two ingredients were cloves and cardamon and my favorites. These spices were the most fragrant and aromatic of the recipe.

Cloves were imported from the Spice Islands.  The Spice Islands were a land of pirate coves and clear blue lagoons. The location of the spice islands and the rare spices found there, was carefully guarded by the Dutch for centuries. Cloves were the aromatic flower buds of a tree in the family Myrtaceae, Syzygium Aromaticum. They had been used in indigenous medicine the world over for centuries. An essential oil was derived from cloves to create a pain killer often used in dentistry. Cloves were also utilized to improve the digestion and move food through the digestive tract in a very pleasant and natural way.

Now it was time for cardamon. One of the world’s most expensive spices; it was grown in Guatemala. It was used around the world in delicious recipes created by the people of India, Scandinavia, The Middle East and Asia. Cardamon was mixed with coffee, tea, sweet breads and rice to accent savory dishes as well as sweet dishes. In our country, cardamon was used a breath freshener in chewing gum.




My morning world tour was complete; a teaspoon of each lovely spice was tipped in and mixed with salt and a cup of cane sugar.

This mixture went into the blender with three eggs and I let the blender mix away. Seconds later everything was perfectly blended and poured into two pie crusts. The pies were initially baked at high heat for 10 minutes to set the base and then the heat decreased to the range of 250 degrees to 300 degrees for the next 40 minutes.

Chai Pie was rustic and delicious. It was a lovely pie that could take one around the world in one bite. It warmed the belly for the season of cold weather to come and prepared us for the coming celebrations of love and light.

Uncategorized

Meadow On The Mountain And Other Lovely Things

Leave a comment

 

 

It was a long time ago and we had decided to have a picnic.  I had the idea that I wanted to have a picnic in a meadow. Meadows were one of my favorite things in life and one of the most beautiful things that I could think of.  A wide expanse of land, high in the mountains, nestled between rocky peaks. Surround by tall forests where ancient pines and stands of Aspen lived. 

We drove up a two lane highway to Dog Valley. Not sure why it was named Dog Valley, but on the way was a sheer rocky cliff at the side of the road. The cliff was a favorite climb for the local rock climbers.  Each time I drove past this spot, memories of a fallen climber would surface.  One day, a few years before, a climber fell and died instantly, his body landing harshly against the sharp outcropping  of stone. The image of his body draped unnaturally  backwards  over a jutting section of the cliff. His body was folded as if  into a sandwich. His  spine most certainly split and fractured in two from the fall. I shook my head and attempted to rid the image from my mind.  We passed a reservoir and headed higher into the forest.  Finally, we pulled to the side on to a dirt road and headed through the forest. This forest was light and the sun shone through the light growth of pines. After about 20 minutes we pulled into an open space and parked.  

As I opened the car door and stepped out among the tall trees, I was immersed in fresh oxygen and the aromas of forest life.  Life was clean and vibrant here.  The scent of pine and earth commingled with thousands of other scents that only a forest and wildlife can produce.  The essentials that sustain life on Earth.  We gathered a blanket and our backpacks and set off to hike through the forest. We would hike  up the mountain and to a meadow we had located on an old map. 

We were both comfortable in the wilderness. We had both grown up camping and knew how to make our way and create landmarks in our minds and on the trail to remember the way. The pine needles crunched beneath my hiking boots as we ascended the gentle slope of the mountainside.  As we hiked the pines began to thin and a wide expanse of grasses and wildflowers came into view.  We headed into the grasses making our own trail.  Bugs and butterflies were abundant,  buzzing and darting about the grasses and wild blossoms.  Birds swooped in and landed for treasure.  They would either perch and stay or fly away again into the vast skies of blue sky country.  I looked down at my old hiking boots from Raley’s the local grocery and supply store. Every year before winter they would have a big sale on down coats, heavy socks and boots to help the locals survive the freezing winters in Reno and the towns that surrounded the city. My parents would herd us in there and buy us each long underwear, a down jacket, heavy socks and boots.  

My boots were heavy, old and scuffed, but well-loved.  They were making the hike on this mountain much easier. Beneath my boots grasses gave way and the soil was peaking through the different varieties of grasses and budding life.  The soil was a grayish brown, chunky, uneven and exuded the aromas of mountain life.

We reached the center of the meadow and threw out our blanket, disengaged our backpacks and laid down in the sunshine.  I laid on my back and gazed into the endless blue sky.  The air was clear and clean and I took deep breaths, filling my lungs with nature and oxygen.  The sun warmed my skin.  All of my nerve endings seemed to vibrate and come alive, reacting to the living meadow.  Life chirped, clicked, scurried and the grasses rustled.  The suns rays opened the grasses and blossoms, initiating photosynthesis and creating more chemical reactions than a chemistry lab.   I figured we probably wouldn’t  last more than an hour  or two in the brilliant sunlight. All around were grasses, birds, wildlife, the forests and flowers in all colors of the rainbow and of all shapes and sizes. Colors burst forth and shot towards the endless blue sky.  I gazed up into the blue and almost felt as if I were flying, but feeling the strong, sturdy earth against my back reminded me of my true location.  

We didn’t speak, we didn’t have to.  The world was speaking for us and we could just lie back and enjoy the conversation.  Eventually, we broke open the backpacks and pulled out snacks and water.  Something small to tide us over until we made it back to the car. I looked around and listened and felt like the luckiest person in the world. 

Uncategorized

Fighting and Loving

Leave a comment

So, the Pandemic moves on and our lives our swept along with it. A tide of flu and bacteria that jumps from host to host, wreaking a bloom of unknown and bizarre events.  Yet, at the time, life also flourishes.  It’s always this way with our world. Our reality is held in place by a balance of events.  We live together, but alone with ourselves at the same time and at this time we have been blessed with more time with ourselves. We have the time right now to stop, get off the treadmill of everyday life and contemplate and become familiar with ourselves, our reality, our dreams, our fears and our place in the world.  This can be a scary thing and not so easy to do.  It’s hard work to examine yourself and your life; to see the truth of your existence. It can also be beautiful and joyful. And there it is again-balance.  

More than ever, I now get the Nike slogan-Just Do It.  And I also get the NO FEAR slogan.  Why is this? Because the truth of human existence is there are no guarantees.  Human life is risky, but that’s what makes it so unique and precious. Eventhough, we are the most intelligent life form on Earth, we cannot predict or guarantee our future. So what does that leave you with? It depends on who you are; which are all of things that ever shaped you. Where you entered life, your genetics and your environment. Your home(if you had one), your parents, your level of privilege(or not). And now here we are, we are to stay more still than ever before and think. Face your truth. Learn to love it or change it(if you can).  

We come into the world fighting for our first breath, fighting to live.  Hopefully our first reception into the world is love, which tempers that fight.  And there we are again, balance. Balance from the beginning.  

We continue to fight in various ways; either by challenges we gave ourself or  by challenges that the  world gives us every day we wake up. We continue to love endlessly, joyfully and deeply, because this world is treasure chest of beauty and opportunity. So we love, we fight-we fight, we love.  And the world goes on. 

 

Uncategorized

Tea Traveling In Place (IE TEA TRAVELS)

Leave a comment

Hello Guys, 

You may be wondering what happened to Tea Travels? Well, Tea Travels is still here, lurking in my mind and heart and we are ready to set off again to experience the best tea and tea rooms the world has to offer.  Tea Travels is based out of the IE and if your are not aware, I will try to school you here, the IE is one of the hotbeds of the Pandemic and bringing new meaning to Sheltering In Place everyday. So, most of you will say, Ah Ha! So you can’t travel then, so no Tea Travels, but I will have to say to those naysayers, Ah Ha! You don’t know Tea Travels and that it springs from a well of creativity that is deep and endless. That being said, Tea Travels is ready to launch again.  It will be an interesting adventure filled with social distancing and masks.  

When the Pandemic settled over us and took over our daily lives, we prayed for a quick ending, that the virus would pass swiftly and then we would be free again, but that has not happened. I happened to be one that really didn’t think a flu could get the upper hand this day in age. We have advanced technology, health science, medicine, but unfortunately, this has not been enough. Here were our a solid four months of serious contagion wreaking havoc on the world.  And we are told this may be hanging around for awhile.  So, now, more than ever, Tea Traveling is a good idea. Because Tea is healing. Tea is calming. Tea is entertaining and interesting.   

So I headed over to one of my favorite Coffee Houses in Chino, CA, DRIPP on my way to look for plants and trees at a local nursery and maybe get some inspiration for gardening. Dripp is located at The Shoppes at Chino Hills, a lovely outdoor mall that has great shopping and entertainment.

 

 It was lively even with the pandemic going on.  It seemed as if the world had put on masks and  was getting on with life. Dripp has been around for awhile and has morphed into an eclectic, creative, organic cafe.  It’s a beautiful place to gather due to it’s unique design.  Right now we can’t sit in the cafe, due to the fact that they are offering pick-up only.  The outside is very nice though filled with pergolas and arbors, so you can sit beneath a canopy of green and get close to nature while you are enjoying Dripps concoctions; which are rich and filled with organic whole ingredients.  

I ordered a Humina Tea; which is a very lovely Jasmine Green Tea over ice and I had them add a dash of coconut milk to add a bit of vegan creaminess.  I wanted something light and cool since the  temperature was already starting to climb. The tea had wonderful refreshing note of wildflowers and Spring.

 

 

 For Coffee lovers,  Dripp has the best Turkish coffee around and also specializes in a variety different of brewing systems for coffee drinkers with a sophisticated pallet.  

 

 

Sitting in the morning air on a lovely summer morning and enjoying a cup of refreshing tea at Dripp, I started to daydream.  My thoughts keep circling back to a documentary I had just watched on Amazon Prime.  Call of The Forest: The Forgotten Wisdom of Trees.  It was a great film and a call to action.   The topic was about our beautiful planet and the trees that have lived on the planet over the millions of years since life began to exist.  The documentary takes the viewer around the world to see the different forests of the world and visit ancient trees. Our guide is Diana Beresford Kruegar renowned scientist and author.   We learn how our lives are entwined with our ecosystems and dependent on the survival of our forests.   Forests purify our atomosphere and create healthy enriched air to breathe, that we need to survive and thrive.  By the end of the film I was in awe and also disturbed that once again we were sacrificing our health, our Earth.  At the conclusion of the film Kruegar says it’s not too late and if everyone on Earth planted six trees, we could make a significant impact on climate change. So, that being said, while drinking tea and thinking of Mother Earth and deciding to do something about it; I’m determined to plan six trees and I hope you will too.  If you don’t have a place to plant trees, you can help organizations that do. Here are some great groups to look into to learn more about planting trees: 

 

www.nature.org

 www.thenatureconservancy.org

www.motherearthnews.com

 

Page Navigation

 12345678910Next
 

 

Uncategorized

Tea With A Zen Bully Dog

Leave a comment

Who do you like to have tea with? Your friends, your child, your parent or maybe just yourself? Or better, your pet?  Tea is about relaxing and reveling about life. A time to drift and dream, converse and create. Tea is a ritual that we create that suits our live and gives us joy and health.  Tea is many things; a medicinal tool, a treat, a door to spirituality and creativity. Drinking tea starts with heat and water.  Two basics intrinsic to human survival and sustainability.  Next comes the gear we choose,  teapot, teacup or mug. Then the tea itself and then the chosen setting.  Last and most importantly, the choice to have company or not. I find the company that we keep while taking tea is fascinating.  

Sometimes there’s no one around.  This happens a lot for me since I work and have a pretty busy schedule. So, when I sit for tea, it’s usually with myself.  Recently, while exploring ideas for tea sets, I came across a new idea for sharing tea that has originated in China.   I had happened on some lovely clay teas sets from China and noticed cute little clay figures placed strategically on tea trays next to the teapots and cups and mixing utensils. The figures were of dragons, frogs, buddhas and different animals.  Most of them were smiling and had round  smooth surfaces giving them soft appearance.  I decided to research these cute little guys and was even more enchanted after reading about them.   These cute little figures are an integral part of the art of taking tea-known as Cha in China.  Their lucky owners embue their clay companions with spiritual meaning and find them good company for taking tea.    They are quite the rage among tea drinkers and there are shops that have showrooms stuffed with teapets in a range of sizes, materials and colors. The teapet is supposed to bring luck to it’s owner. 

Photo by Sharon McCutcheon on Unsplash

I love dogs and I found this really cute tea pet that looks like a sweet, chubby pug. I call him a Zen Bully Dog Teapet, because he looks incredibly relaxed, without a care and appears to be  watching in quiet earnest the goings on in his surroundings. To raise your teapet you pour hot tea over your pet and give it a good drink. This conditions the teapet and your pet will  develop characteristics that are unique to your method of raising your tea pet and the tea he absorbs over several sessions of tea with you. 

Tea pets originated in Yixing, known for it’s beautiful clay.  This clay is utilized to make many beautiful objects and in particular gear for tea. Teapots, cups, platters and all kinds of ceramic objects. The clay can be purple, red or green and is usually not fired during production, creating a porous surface.   The finest tea pets are brought to life in Yixing.  There’s not a lot written about tea pets, no true history passed down through the ages that is accessible here in the United States. You will find shops in China Town stuffed with them, but very little information. Dragons represent fertility, buddhas-compassion, kindness and spiritual enlightenment, and a cat represents good luck. 
 
Photo by Tereza Ruba on Unsplash
 

My tea pet is a Zen Bully Dog because once I fell in love with a little pug and this Zen Bully Dog looks so much like a pug.  The bully dog is a clever and spiritual companion that forms a close spiritual relationship with it’s master or mistress The Bully Dog always stays near and offers companionship and understanding. When joy is in the air, bully dogs whirl and play.  When sadness falls from the sky, the bully dog will snuggle close and offer his soft body for stroking and releasing emotional pain.  The bully dog is truly Zen because he is always in the moment and completely in love with life and world.  He’s at peace with the now and offers compassion and kindness to all. It’s a known fact that owners bond with their tea pets.  Spending significant alone time  and sharing tea consistently will create a lasting friendship with the little clay canine that represents love, companionship and undying friendship.  

I sat down to tea.  My beautiful carved, wooden tea tray lay before me with all the essentials. On the tray lay a clay teapot, a steaming carafe of spring water filled with minerals from a spring in the mountains near my home.  There were two teacups, a tea filter, a jar of tea,  scooping utensils and a mixing tool. There was my tea pet. The sleeping bully dog reposed with a smile upon his clay lips.  He rested peacefully. I wondered when he had his tea, would he leap up and play? Of course, he slept peacefully-a symbol of rest and contentment. 

Photo by Oriento on Unsplash

To bring home your own Zen Bully Dog Pet, visit: victoriagoodsandtradingcompany.com

Uncategorized

The Path Unknown

 

Photo by Muzzamil Soorma on Unsplash

Changes, changes, change is good.  And here we are, everyday changes.  Dramatic change full of upheavals and high emotions and a wave that is thrusting mankind forward.  Whether we want to go or not, we are going and no one really knows where. There are those of use who are full of confidence.  They know their path that they will follow and there are others that will flow with the tide. There is a pandemic, it’s seems to be relenting. In my part of the world it is not.  There is also revolution.  The abused have had a enough and mankind is joining together to create change that is good.  So all can live without fear and terror.

Photo by Derick Mckinney on Unsplash

We had an earthquake the other day and I didn’t even care.  It seemed trivial to the new way of life that was settling upon us.  People are craving socialization, but fearful that this may lead to a surge of new cases and then the Pandemic will never end.  We mourn the many that we have lost over these last six months.   Our loved ones, our friends, our elders.  We are realizing that there is most likely no going back and that our lives are now forever changed.  The masks, now everywhere are a constant reminder. I miss seeing smiles.

Photo by Colin D 8 Corwhl on Unsplash

Most of all, I see courage and hope.  I realize that we have to  let go of fear and forge ahead.  Because if we just sit and let disease and injustice loom over us, we will never be free, we will never have joy. I watch the brave first responders and our brave protestors march to their assignments, to somehow change the world for good.  It’s beautiful to see the human spirit rise and soar for justice and to save others.

My first experience with protest was in the 60’s.  Now, memories of the marches,  Martin Luther King’s and Kennedy’s assassination, are so clear it’s as if these events happened yesterday.  The Black Panthers, Angela Davis, The Women’s Lib movement. Woodstock. Protest was everywhere and it filled a dull black and white world with technicolor and opened the doors to new ideas and experiencing a new way of living.  Many sacrifices were made that made life better for us all.

It’s not the end, this is the beginning, just like many beginnings before this one. Tough, scary and the unknown and a challenge to the human spirit.

So, I’m not sure what tomorrow will bring, but I know that if I wake up tomorrow, I will be looking for answers and learn to live well with what life gives me.

Photo by Aaron Blanco Tejedor on Unsplash