The farm gave me two bags of tomatoes since we bought raw cow and goat’s milk and our tomatoes are giving their last hurrah for the summer. Here’s my solution to try this week!
Every morning I sit down with a healthy cup of tea, the news, and the furbabies. If I should choose to skip my morning sit down with the Queens of fur, they sulk, and I remember how healthy a morning cup of tea is for me and my family.
I love my green, white, and black teas equally but the morning is meant for a green tea. Lately, however, I discovered a fact that’s sent me back to the research on the health of these teas.
Tea comes in bags or loose in a tin, I have both but my recent favorite is the Tazo green ginger which comes in a bag. A bag that causes cancer. Yes I have to die of something, but I’d rather die of the unknown than the known. Apparently our world is so developed that we have to have white ahem, bleached, tea bags. Also, no one wants the paper bags to dissolve in your cup so they put a type of plastic in the paper to make it strong enough to survive not quite boiling water.
That’s two strikes Tazo! Good ole Wikepedia says that the chemical Epichlorohydrin causes stomach problems and is a carcinogen when it comes into contact with water. EEK! I wonder if the same is true of milk? The bleaching causes developmental and hormone problems (there’s my excuse) and can affect a fetus.<—Baby M?
What to do? I could cut the bag and put the tasty tainted leaves in my diffuser. However this internet (MIS)adventure also reminded me that many teas contain pesticides. Oh Jeez!
Like I said, I’m going to die of something, just not today!
Dear Church Lady,
We see how artfully arranged your children are in their matching outfits and only assume the flowers on your dining table are just as well arranged. You sing a lovely soprano “How Great Thou Art”, while checking Sunday dinner off in your head. Piously, you bow your head and quiet the active feet beside you. No one knows yesterday you were covered in grime from fishing with the kids. No one can see the garden dirt underneath your manicured, jeweled fingers.
What else we can see, however, is startling. The prerequisite to every hymn, to every passing of the peace, to every time you stand up in the Lord’s house–the picking of your granny panties and dress out of your blessed hiney. Church Lady, I understand these things happen. However in order for it to become noticeable to those behind you, the excessiveness to which you undertake your retrieval is olympic. Can you tone down this sport? Maybe invest in fitting goods, or tape?
Two pews back
We are searching far and wide for a new home.Home is where the pups can romp and stop. Home is where our future child will play in the creek. Home is where I can garden or read in peace without the sound of honking horns and screeching tires. Home reminds us of family and homes before. The scene below was taken in the low country of South Carolina when visiting with family. One day we’ll have a space like this to call our own, until then I’ll relax in the hammock here.
It started out innocent enough.
I had leftover buttermilk and the sweetheart wanted buttermilk biscuits. My blueberry Bojangles biscuits we’ve had more than enough times and there’s a ton of venison sausage that needs to be cleaned out of the freezer before deer season. To Google!
Then, I’d really rather not have to roll out biscuits after arm day. The Country Cook: Butter Dip Biscuits.
These were fluffy-extreme and went great with strawberry jam, venison sausage and our backyard eggs! As always I edited the recipe just a tad. It calls for a stick of butter melted. I melted half and grated the other half into my batter. You have to try them! I’m putting the recipe up just until the next container of buttermilk.
In response to The Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge: “On the Way.”The weather and the water have called to me lately. We found the river that fed one of our local lakes and discovered plenty of life. At times our canoe ran aground but it was a rental (-$10.00) and was tough enough for these types of excursions. Thanks to Google I learned that the items we thought were frog eggs, silly me, were actually bryozoans. We also saw turtles! The little guy above received an invaluable education about humans, selfies, and I warned him about the dreaded hook, ahem “lure”. We found a fishing pole in a shallow inlet of the lake (+$10.00), it’s a little covered in algae but it still works. We also discovered a nice lure caught in a tree (+20.00). We did almost steal a guy’s bobber, but we were on a roll! I put it back. The hubs is still on cloud nine about finding the lure, I’m ready to go again!
I dabble in things from time to time and Calligraphy is one of those things that returns again and again. I first fell in love with calligraphy in a sixth grade history class, that was also the first time I had a crush on a teacher. On random whims over the decades I have picked up the occasional pen but until recently I’ve never done the research or taken the time to practice each day. On a trip to Asheville we ventured into an ink store, Origami Owl, where they did not have THE calligraphy pen/nib I was looking for but they did have a pen that was lower on my list and they had ink in every color -with the better brands (hence our finding the store).
I walked out with the Lamy fountain pen with a 1.9 calligraphy nib and the Shah’s Rose Noodlers Ink–it’s pink, of course! I also have the broad tip that comes with the Lamy pen. Tis’ simple to change the nib, but not nearly as flexible as I would like.
The hubs found the “bright blue” he was looking for in Visconte. However I am upset at the Visconte people because their bottle is not glass. A beautiful bottle like that and you make it out of cheap plastic! At least my Noodler’s is USA glass. Italy is struggling more than we know. Sad Times.
A note to actual calligraphers who may have alternate recommendations: This combination of pen, ink, and nib flows tolerably.