R & R & T

I am a workaholic and realized I almost never spend whole days outdoors anymore. So out I go into the mists of October, scaring packs of deer who apparently thought this property was all theirs.

I have now re-engaged with recreation and hobbies. A two-mile walk today on an unexpectedly steep new trail I balanced with a half-hour of leisure in the zero-gravity chair with a pot of hot tea.

I'm taking Russian-language classes and barre classes. The Russian teacher lived four years in Moscow. She says, "Russia is the only country in the world where a poetry reading can fill a stadium." I plan to live on my Social Security in the lovely Silk Road city of Samarkand, Uzbekistan. They all speak Russian, and I'm glad they do, because there's no Uzbek-language classes around here.

Barre classes are ballet-inspired workouts but without the impact. I bought a package of 10 one-hour classes to deliberately invest too much to waste them. One hour in class draws only the most determined and addicted, because barre is torture and whips up those endorphins like, whoo-ee. The regulars -- there are lots! -- are all trim through the middle and have built a genuine booty. That's right, a booty worth writing home about. If I get one, I will post it. Twenty years older than most participants, I sometimes lag but never quit and after three classes am catching on.

Later I'll practice my bongos.

"There, There, Dearie"

It's 5 below 0 outside -- aggggh! Ireland left with me a fresh appreciation for hot drinks. Tea there, very necessary, arrived always at the table in an adorable personal-sized teapot (made of restaurant-type steel) and in the hotel room was a super-express electric hot-water pot. Unlike the rip-roaring rush of coffee, tea's caffeine boost is more like a pat on the hand: "There, there, dearie, don't carry on so."

I never had thoughts about tea or owned a teapot large or small, and back home explored again, with reason and delight, U.K. tea brands and the old-restaurant-ceramics frontier on eBay until I saw this personal teapot from Jackson China (Falls Creek, PA) stamped L7, July 1962, with a utilitarian shape and light cocoa-colored airbrush trim. Rinsing it and filling it (10-ounce capacity) with hot water and a teabag provides two cups, plus milk or cream, in my favorite 6-ounce restaurant-china cups, and the second hot cup is waiting right there and I don't have to get up for it. Most civilized.

Then I thought -- tea should be shared and I need another personal teapot for my company! It'll work for coffee too. From eBay I ordered another, same maker and shape, but with bright-green banding. It's on its way. The cup in this photo is from Shenango, date unknown. It's not a teacup but a coffee cup, but today I liked this shape's stability and thick heat-holding walls. Yesterday I took a walk. It was 9 degrees. I was back in 11 minutes.

Scent of Sassafrass

Sassafrass (sassafrass albidum) runs wild on this property and friend of mine unearthed a root so we could inhale its fabulous, characteristic fragrance: rootbeer plus anise. The wild foods book says that sassafrass has been found to cause liver cancer in lab animals, and we aren't supposed to steep the bark and drink sassafrass tea like great-grandparents did, for a tonic, back in the day; but just to ID it and sniff it and dream of being back in the day is fun on a July afternoon.
"Sassafrass" is a corruption of the word "saxifrage," which ultimately means "to break rocks." To ID it -- it's common --look for distinctive "mitten"-shaped leaves. Sometimes they're three-lobed and rounded, like Casper the Ghost throwing up his hands. This is a plant you won't forget.

1-800-YOGI-TEA

Needles stuck out all over me, about 15 of 'em. I felt the initial jabs only in the left ankle and breastbone, but otherwise, no pain. Hands, chest, feet, crown full of needles -- for 20 minutes. I wondered: Will this work? Will I come out "balanced," as they say?

After the 2-1/2-inch needles were jabbed through my clothes, I lay looking at the ceiling, never at the needles, worrying. The legs, feet and toes of another patient got pierced. The acupuncturist apologized to her, saying that needles in the pinky toes will always hurt: "Those are the ends of the meridians." The lady wanted stress relief. We chatted and I said I was an acupuncture virgin. She told me, "Afterward, you'll wanna sleep." True!

January around here is like being wrapped in a whole roll of toilet paper, just that blinding and just that dull. Cabin fever. Fantasies, good and scary, start ruling your mind. Climbin' the cabin walls, I decided to treat myself to two new things: Any two new things. One was acupuncture. It was just okay. The other was Yogi Tea. Bought the "Daily Stress Relief Formula," from Golden Temple of Oregon (1-800-YOGI-TEA). Pricey -- but gol-darn, it really calms and centers you like one of them there yogis who got his picture on the package!