“Each cup of tea represents an imaginary voyage.” ~Catherine Douzel

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We love tea.

We can’t do without our afternoon cuppa.

Fragrant spiraling steam from the spout signals to the senses that proper steeping has occurred and it’s time to pour a golden amber or grassy green stream of molten happiness. 

Ahhh. That first sip never fails to satisfy — to stop time for a moment and live IN that moment of pure pleasure.

A pot of tea is a wondrous thing.

(It’s so funny; as I re-read what I wrote, I could easily substitute champagne or tequila  — also my favorite beverages — for “tea.” LOL)

teapot9Ginger, Korean ginseng, Yogi green tea, genmaicha, even fennel seeds (steeped in boiling water and delicious)…and once in a while Twinings or PG Tips .

I never consciously decided to collect teapots, but they seem to be growing and multiplying and spawning others to join our family.

Navigate through these seven teapots; some given as gifts, some found abandoned and dusty in thrift stores and secondhand shops;  some purchased fresh and new.

Are you a tea lover? What’s your fave?

A few of my favorite quotes about tea: 

Make tea, not war. ~Monty Python

Tea is a divine herb. ~Xu Guangqi

Having picked some tea, he drank it,
Then he sprouted wings,
And flew to a fairy mansion,
To escape the emptiness of the world….
~Chiao Jen

Where there’s tea there’s hope. ~Arthur Wing Pinero

Great love affairs start with champagne and end with tisane. ~Honoré de Balzac

Water is the mother of tea, a teapot its father, and fire the teacher. ~Chinese Proverb

 Some of my faves…

Cast iron teapot, great for genmaicha.Cast iron teapot

Polka dot pot!Polka dot pot

Tea for one.

Tea for one Flowers and lilac; think frilly frocks and high tea. “Pass the scones, my dear.”Lilacs and flowers

A woodland fantasy of pink and green.

Frogs and flowers

From one of my tugboat man’s voyages to Trinindad; only ornamental but spectacularly hand painted and primitive.

Ornamental teapot from Trinidad

A beautiful sculptured teaset for our twentieth wedding anniversary from Angel Boy and DIL. China is the traditional 20th gift. Thank you, guys!   We had guests yesterday afternoon and  I served tea in these elegant cups. So classy!

Beautiful white sculptured pot and cupsI’ll plan a Part Two with pics of my other teapots, the antique ones.

 

A garden

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This is a blog y’all should follow. Writing is amazing, photos are spectacular. I love this poem.

Esther H.'s avatarHortus Closus

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Painting by Vladimir Volegov

I breed my princess
In a musical garden.
Silence reigns.

The wind is the orchestra,
Birds and sea are the choral.

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Chocolate Chip Cookie Cairn for Wordless Wednesday

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Wednesday’s almost over; 5:00 p.m. in SoCal — a few minutes ago I took these chocolate chip cookies out of the oven, stacked them up, and snapped a few pics.

Chocolate Chip Cookie Cairn

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chocolate chip cookie cairn


Silent Sunday: Turning Toward The Light

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On the dining room table, anthurium with sun and shadow turning toward the light.sun:shadowanthurium

Silent Sunday: Resting Butterfly With Wings Kissed By The Sun

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Resting Butterfly, With Sunkissed Wings
 Resting ButterflyResting Butterfly

I Fell Down and a Baby Popped Out.

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In that order, but it took a whole day to achieve my life’s greatest accomplishment.

In 1981, March 23 fell on a Monday.

This year, my Angel Boy is in New York at a conference at NYU. My BABY boy is not a baby anymore. That’s a hard concept to grasp…

The day before…
 I took my dogs, Beowulf and Sabrina, out for an early morning walk.

My mom was going to come over around noon and take me shopping — see, that’s where I get it from!

It was a full week past my due date and those pesky Braxton Hicks contractions were terrifying me on a daily basis. My mom was the head RN of Women’s Surgical at a local hospital. She thought a bit of retail therapy (see what I mean?) would take my mind off of that discomfort.

At that time, my son’s dad and I lived in an older part of San Diego; Hillcrest. The sidewalks were deteriorated with huge cracks and fissures.

With my big belly full of Angel Boy blocking my view, I tripped and fell — not hard — but with sixty extra pounds on my normally one hundred pound frame, I was more than a little ungainly.

I remember being super embarrassed for anyone to watch my feeble attempts to get up. Luckily, no one was out that early. I leaned on Beowulf (one-hundred-pounds of Akita/Husky/Wolf) who stood about thirty inches at his shoulders, and he was a sturdy support to help me up.

I continued walking home — just a few blocks — and didn’t think much about my fall, but I did tell my mom when she picked me up to go to the mall.

She knew everything there was to know about birthin’ babies.

She reminded me that she had told me a zillion times not to go walking alone this late in pregnancy, but I replied like I always did, “Blah, blah, blah…I’m not listening to a word you say.”

We stopped at a lingerie shop and she bought me a beautiful rosebud sprigged shortie nightgown.

As we were leaving the store, I whispered to her, “Mom, I think I wet my pants.”

(Dumb me, who had read every single book ever written about pregnancy and childbirth, didn’t comprehend what had happened.)

My mom instantly went into what we always called her “nursey” mode.

Quizzing me non-stop about any other symptoms in a very calm voice, we cut short our shopping day (darn) and drove home.

I don’t want to be too gross here; let’s just say other things were leaking out of me, too…

Suddenly, those Braxton Hicks contractions became the real thing.

I called my doctor. It was time.

All during my pregnancy, I had planned to deliver at home, au natural, with my mom as midwife.

Toward the end, it became obvious that my Angel Boy was too big for that to be possible.

I hate hospitals.

I didn’t want that atmosphere to be the first memories implanted in my baby’s precious brain. With reluctance, I agreed that his health was more important than my hippie chick desires, and hubs, mom, and I all went to the hospital.

The doc examined me, concluded that the fall had merely torn the amniotic sac and the potential for introducing bacteria was a concern, so I agreed to let him completely puncture it to speed up the process.

And oh yes, speed it up it did. The mild contractions intensified.

Other than the unrelenting pain, which didn’t respond to that stupid Lamaze class training, I remember my son’s dad watching “Patton” on the wall TV in the birthing room.

I will always hate him for that.

After being in labor all night, my mom and the doc had a consultation.

Apparently, my baby had a head the size of Plymouth Rock and it was stuck.

It just wouldn’t come out.

I was so upset I couldn’t stop crying.

I had failed my first test as a mom.

So…at 9:42 a.m. on Monday, March 23, 1981, I had an emergency Caesarean Section.

I was wide awake and watched it all.

In the end, I guess it didn’t really matter how my Angel Boy got here.

He was beautiful and healthy; 8 1/2 pounds and 21 inches. He scored a 9 on the Apgar Scale; a high achiever from the beginning!

Happy 33rd birthday, Professor Angel Boy!

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Totally Wordless Wednesday: Pure Ivory, A Virtuous Lily

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Pure Ivory, A Virtuous LilyWhite Calla Lily close upPhoto Credit:
Princess Rosebud @Enchanted Seashells, Confessions of a Tugboat Captain’s Wife

Best Jewish Mom Film: A Review of “Guilt Trip”

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 Since it’s almost Purim and Passover, this is the PERFECT time for a little Jewish Mom guilt, dontcha think?

Since it’s almost Purim and Passover, this is the PERFECT time for a little JewMom guilt, dontcha think?

Here’s how it happened. I was baking up a storm, a marathon baking sesh ‘cos my son and DIL, were scheduled to arrive at Casa de Enchanted Seashells virtually within hours of each other, which meant that I had two airport pickups back to back to back.

While the Ginger + Ginger Cake was in the oven and chocolate chip cookies were cooling on a rack, I poured myself a glass of chard and searched through Netflix for something funny with which to entertain myself while i allowed myself a relaxing moment or two.

On Netflix “Guilt Trip” came up a few times in New Releases and Newly Added and Suggestions for me, but I kept looking for something else, cos the thumbnail pic of Seth Rogan and Barbra Streisand didn’t really call out to me – film marketing companies need to work on their thumbnails! — but then nothing else did either, so I thought I’d give it a try.

I’m so glad I did ‘cos it was an unexpected and sweetly funny surprise. Rogan and Streisand have a great chemistry together; natural, easygoing, playing off each other effortlessly. Road trip films are a tried and true formula; moms and sons is a savory twist to the genre.

I love movies that aren’t full of gratuitous violence, gratuitous sex/nudity, and have happy endings. If you’re like me, you’ll like “Guilt Trip”.

A SHORT SYNOPSIS: As UCLA organic chemist grad and  inventor Andy Brewster is about to embark on the road trip of a lifetime to sell his product, a quick stop at his mom’s house turns into an unexpected cross-country voyage with her along for the ride.

BEST MOM QUOTE EVER: “If all the little boys in the world were lined up, and I had to just pick only one, I’d choose you… every time.” (Streisand to Rogan)

Every mother and her adult son SHOULD see this film together, whether you’re a Jewish mom like me or not. They are, after all, always our baby boys, no matter their age. Like I tell my son, there are worse things to endure in this world than having a mother who loves him as much as I do.

It is SO funny. I saw a lot of myself in it — the zillion phone calls, screaming out his name at the airport, the son going to school 3,000 miles away from home (we don’t even want to GO THERE) — Angel Boy and I haven’t gone on a road trip together, but it might look pretty much exactly like this one if we did, except for me winning a steak eating contest.

Actually, we did something similar when I flew to Goettingen, Germany to visit him for his junior year abroad at the University of Goettingen when he was at UCSD. We spent a week together traveling around Germany. I had an amazing time, even though we got stuck in a blizzard, and even if I was prolly a bit annoying. OK, maybe a LOT annoying, but still, to spend time like that with my Angel Boy was priceless. Spending the night at the airport in Frankfurt is still something that makes us laugh.

Aside: In the film, there’s a LOT of blatant product placement from Kmart to Costco to QVC, but it wasn’t too distracting and i had to admire the chutzpah.

The second viewing was with Angel Boy and DIL. I think DIL probably enjoyed it more than my son; he cringed a bit during some of the scenes of Rogan with Streisand that we thought were HILARIOUS. I think it all hit a bit too close to home at certain moments, LOL. And yes, I too have purchased underwear for my adult son. I confess…

DIL thought that UCLA as Rogan character’s school and the UCLA sweatshirt was “art mimicking life” and perhaps a SIGN FROM THE UNIVERSE because Angel Boy recently interviewed for a teaching job there (fingers crossed!) and because all I wear are t-shirts and sweatshirts from the universities my son has attended. Right now I’m sporting  a “Someone at Yale loves me” t-shirt under a “Yale Mom” sweatshirt. I am SUCH a cliche, I know, I know.

And i’m drinking out of a Yale/Hello Kitty water bottle. Pathetic, right? I know.

I hope I’ve “guilt tripped” you into seeing it, too, and I hope you like it as much as we did.

I totes recommend “Guilt Trip” (2012)
I give it 5 Louboutins out of 5

Wordless Wednesday: Tulips

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Tulips and Shadows…the play of light
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Tulips Blooming
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Then All (Spider) Hell Broke Loose and That’s Why I Needed Some Retail Therapy

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BLOG WARNING: If spiders freak you out, pour your favorite adult beverage and take a sip or two before you continue. Keep refilling as needed.

Last night in the middle of the night; was it a dream or was it real?

I don’t know what sleep state I was in, but I FELT something crawly on my arm.

You know how sometimes dreams can be SO real?

Like when you have to pee but you’re not sure if it’s just a dream or for reals and your subconscious says if you don’t wake up RIGHT NOW YOU ARE GOING TO PEE THE BED and then you’ll remember next time that you should have listened?

No? Just me?

Too much? 

Well, this time I dragged myself out of whatever level I was in and woke all the way up and saw that I was holding my left arm with my right hand, which was pretty amazing in its own right, right?

I ever so carefully turned over and flipped on my bedside lamp with my left hand all the while holding firm with my right hand to my left arm. Get the picture?

Can we say awkward?

Slowly, ever so slowly, I cautiously spread apart my fingers  — which by now had a major death grip on my left bicep.

OH HELL NO.

YUP,  IT WAS A SPIDER.

IT WAS A MOTHERF***ING SPIDER.

BIG AND BLACK  WITH EIGHT NASTY HAIRY BLACK LEGS.

www.outback-australia-travel-secrets.com

http://www.outback-australia-travel-secrets.com                                           It wasn’t this big, but that’s how big it SEEMED.

(Thank goodness it wasn’t a black widow, but I wasn’t thinking about that at that moment.)

ALL HELL WAS BREAKING LOOSE IN MY HEAD.

A SPIDER WAS ON ME.

How did he get there?

What would have happened if I hadn’t awakened?

What if it bit me? OMG.

What do I do? What would YOU do? I didn’t know what to do.

My heart was beating so hard that I thought it was gonna pop out of my ribcage and I simultaneously started swearing and hyperventilating.

I only had two arms and two hands and they were still clenching each other and trying to contain the dinner plate-sized SPIDER from moving anywhere. (It wasn’t that big, but you know, that’s how it FELT.)

I mean, what the hell do you do in that situation?

If I took my hand away, he would continue on his merry way up my arm to who knows where, and if I smashed it ON my arm, I’d have a dead spider with spider juices all over my arm.

Quite the dilemma I was in, don’t you agree?

With my agile toes, I grabbed the tissue box that was on the floor conveniently nearby ‘cos I’d been having allergies and was sniffly.

With my right hand still virtually superglued to my left arm, all those years of ballet training came into play as I plucked a tissue from the box with the toes of my right foot and very gracefully (NOT) brought my toes and my mouth to meet, kind of contorting in a forward fold OVER my arms.

Envision a human quesadilla.

Good to know I’m still as flexible as a twenty-year-old, I noted to myself with pride…

With the tissue secured in my mouth, in the blink of an eye, I lifted my right hand, grabbed the tissue, and scooped up the probably by now brain damaged spider where I believe he’d been paralyzed in terror, ran to the bathroom, threw the spider-filled tissue in the toilet, and flushed.

Bye-bye spider. On to the afterlife for you.

Who could get back to sleep, right? I was traumatized. I grabbed my laptop, Tweeted about the incident and composed a list of things to do the next day, which always calms me down. List making is like that.

Which brings us to retail therapy.

I’m gearing up for a daylong shopping excursion to South Coast Plaza (OMM) and thought it’d be good idea to start with a little local therapy.

I mean you wouldn’t run a full marathon without first trying out a half marathon, right?

After Boot Camp, I hit all of the local spots in an impromptu training sesh  – Target, Michaels, World Market, Tuesday Morning, Marshalls —  flexing my shopping muscles and getting my groove back.

I was pleased not to have lost my quick reflexes; whipping out the plastic in 2.5 seconds, tying my former record.

A couple of necessities, a tray adorned with roses (how could I resist), pink push up bra, cutest ever flip-flops, not too bad, nothing spectacular, nothing major, even a couple of one dollar books from the library.

No Chanel, no Louby heels, no jewelry…baby steps, baby steps.

It felt good, though…real good — to get back in the saddle.

It really is just like riding a bicycle, you never forget.

And the retail therapy successfully helped to erase the psychological trauma of sleeping with a spider. 

shoppingtrip

Next time, watch out! South Coast Plaza, here I come.