Springy greetings from the Pacific Northwest! I used to hate this short little month so much, until I moved to a place where February is when the first flowers bloom. Now, I’m quite fond of it. The daffodils in the neighbors’ yard look ready to pop any day now, and our irises are racing them. If the promised sun and 55 degrees develop this afternoon, we’ll probably go out and start prepping our little garden for the coming season.
We happened to be shopping on the southeast side of town on Saturday, mostly for a craft supplies run to Jo-Ann’s, because I’ve decided to learn cross-stitch and ‘needed’ a ‘few’ things–like PILES more embroidery floss. I don’t know why I thought I would hate cross-stitch: it’s very soothing to the OCD part of my brain, as all the little x’s line up, row after row. I don’t have enough done on my first project to make it worth showing, but I’ll post pictures after I’ve made more progress. Anyway, being on that side of town, we stopped at a grocery store that carries a lot of imported items, and look what I found in the tea aisle:
I didn’t think you could find Ahmad No.1 anymore–they changed the name a while ago, and I never remember what it’s called now (English Afternoon, maybe?) Or perhaps they didn’t change the name in Russia–because when I turned the box over, it was all in Cyrillic (and I tried, but couldn’t get a decent shot of that for you.) (Because now that Missing Sync puts my cell phone photos straight into iPhoto, I’m too lazy to get out the real camera and go through all that rigmarole.) Too bad it’s in bags, instead of loose leaf, but it’s Ahmad No.1: I’m not going to complain.
On to reading matters: we knew I couldn’t sustain that heady book-a-week pace forever, but it was fun while it lasted. I’m now mired in Doubt, and reading at more of a book-a-month pace. But I am reading–and taking notes! See?
To ensure I finish by the end of the month, I’ve also had to do this:
That’s the rest of the book divided into convenient 20-page-per-day portions. Just to be sure I’m staying on pace, you understand, and not because I’m having any trouble making myself read the book. It’s not as juicy as the books I read just before it, but it’s nowhere near as dry as you’d expect of a historical survey of religious and philosophical dissenters. It’s very much the reading equivalent of eating your vegetables, but I like vegetables, so that’s okay. I just have to think of it as broccoli, not spinach.
Mmm, broccoli…maybe we’ll have better luck with it in the garden this year.