We can talk about the weather

2001 05 02 - 19:02

The weather gets warmer, which is welcome, but I am now reminded of two things which aren't; the humidity of southern Ontario in summer, and the migraines I'll get because of it.

This, however, is why Dog created Advil, and why I am now much beholden to him/her/it/them.

I think I'm going to become stupendously wealthy, and spend every summer for the rest of my unnatural born days in the UK. They have perfect weather in summer. It's not too hot, not too cold, it only looks like it's going to rain more than it actually does rain; plus, no humidity. At least nothing that I personally would describe as such.

I still have my nice, big fan, so I am ready for at least part of the battle that is about to ensue.

The past winter was an absolute bastard, and I'm exceedingly grateful it's taken a dirt nap. I only hope similar treatment of our tender human skin, doesn't rear its vicious head come next winter Solstice.

It's the sort of weather that actually made me want to move somewhere with sun.

I am not a sun person.

Sun; bad. White like pasty dough-girl; good.

Some place that floats around 75F all year; excellent.

I suppose I'll have to start saving up for that biodome, now.

personal



Kind

2001 04 24 - 22:04

Kind
     is of like-mind
     to be generous
     and considerate
     to share a gift
     and give a word
     of goodness
     of comfort

personal



Fallen Leaves

2001 04 15 - 21:26

When tea is picked it's picked by hand and packaged by hand. What you get in teabags is usually the stuff that falls on the factory floor. It makes me laugh when I see tea commercials that talk of the freshness and non-bitterness of their tea, when really all they have is the dregs; the stuff that isn't good enough for the teaballs of the connaiseurs. :>

This tea from Sri Lanka that my mother gave me is very very nice stuff. It's got the kickass caffeine strength that I absolutely crave, but there's nothing bitter about it. It's somewhat like drinking Mike's Hard Lemonade, though; the niceness of the taste makes you forget the strength of what you're drinking.

I think I'm spoiled for tea bags now. I'll have to go back to scouring the wonders of the Twinings tea in cans collection.

personal