A CELEBRATION OF TEA

 

Coffee is the work horse of the beverage world, tea is the show pony. Everything tastes and feels more special with tea.

Unlike coffee, tea evokes images and feelings. People who love coffee usually like loud music and crowds. These are NOT my people.

Tea is like a quiet, relaxing vacation in my mind, a mini getaway.

Whenever I sit and sip Irish tea, I can imagine myself sitting by a window in a cozy room with a blazing fireplace. Outside it's chilly as a light misty rain falls upon a wild garden. Curving thru it is a dirt path leading up to a crude old picket fence; beyond are jade colored mountains and wide haunting moors brimming with secrets longing to be told.

The flavor of Raspberry tea makes me feel as if I’m seated in a large white gazebo in the middle of a lavish spring garden. Acres of flowering trees and bushes with ripe fruit surround me. Rabbits scamper and frolic among these as songbirds sing sweetly to me. Beyond are rolling mint-colored hills and fields of lavender and wildflowers as families of deer strut proudly among them.

A taste of cinnamon tea and I imagine a Christmas Eve in Vienna! It's cold and snowing outside but I'm snug and warm inside a charming old ninetieth century home peering out thru a huge picture window high above the city. Icicles hang from the window along with frost. The multitude of bright gem colored lights outside display a gauzy glow as the stars above appear to be diaphanous distant pearls. Inside is a 10 ft tree decorated to the hilt. I can almost smell the cinnamon pecan rolls baking for Christmas morning.

My orange, passion fruit, jasmine green tea is a special exotic tropical treat! I imagine myself upon a paradisical private island somewhere between Africa and Asia. I'm alone enjoying every moment of my isolation and serenity. Fragrances from the many different and gorgeous flowers fill my nostrils, colorful butterflies as big as birds flutter past me. Just beyond, the azure waves of Indian Ocean lap the shoreline glistening in the sun; with each, a warm gentle breeze caresses me.

A new tea I’ve recently come to love is Butterfly Pea Flower Vanilla Midnight. It’s the green shade of a haunted forest. A magical esoteric place filled with secrets unknown to the outside world. Within the tree trunks dwell ancient spirits. Faeries perch in their branches as gnomes peek out from behind rocks. I call this my enchanted tea!

Opening my eyes after savoring each sip, I'm reminded that my kitchen table and the formal one beneath the chandelier both display lovely nature views outside that I don't need to imagine. However, a little fantasy and a bit of variety is always something to enjoy along with the delicious taste of tea!

AI & EYES IN THE SKY

 

I’ll admit I enjoy AI artwork. It’s the stuff of fantasy. I find it fascinating and intriguing.

A friend told me AI is going to eventually replace workers, and most people will be thrown out of a job.

I told her to look on the bright side and remember our ages, when the big takeover happens, we’ll probably be dead or close to it. -- Although this is happening already! Self-check-out is here and I detest it!

I still resent the fact that I’m forced to pump my own gas. I loathe having to touch that germy handle. Growing up this was a job for station attendants who also checked your oil & tire pressure, as well as cleaned your windshield. Nowadays, everything is more expensive with worse customer service.

Not long ago, I was presented with a special offer. AI could narrate my books for a reduced price. There was only one catch! The AI would have trouble with foreign words or phrases. So I had to decline.

In the two novels I’d have chosen: The first, the main character goes to Germany to solve a decades old mystery. The second, the lead character is a wealthy divorcee who is well traveled. AI would have a fit with these, especially the first one!

This in mind, I noticed something goofy in a YouTube video I was watching about WWII. The narrator referred to the German “Wehrmacht” as Vermont! Also 1945 was pronounced 1,945! Who talks like that? Certainly not a human being!

Recently, I hired a plumber, and we were discussing AI. I told him not to worry; his job was safe. He said he was concerned for his sons. He wanted them to be businessmen not plumbers.

By the time his sons are grown, plumbers will probably be making more money than doctors! And their services are hardly cheap now! Doctors will be easier to replace. AI can diagnose illnesses and robots can perform surgery. But I can’t see them doing plumbing.

I’ve read poetry written by a computer and it was laughable. The plumber pointed out that AI has already taken jobs away from humans by narrating books & videos. Sadly, I can’t argue with that!

Plus, we’re still in the early stages, computers are only going to be getting smarter.

LUNCH & DEATH

 

During the double zero decade I was invited to numerous free luncheons from investment firms. 2007 was a particularly big year for this. My friend Irene (now deceased) & I seemed to attend one every month.

Nowadays I no longer receive invitations to these. Perhaps they’ve discovered that I’ve lost most of my money in so-called “safe investments.” Instead, I’m invited to luncheons by funeral and cremation services now. – I always attend, but only for the free food!

Death is a lucrative business! Our planet has an exploding population and none of us are getting out of here alive! Plus, a mortician will never be replaced by AI. It’s one of the few jobs that’s safe.

The last four of these stopped providing dessert. To me, a meal is incomplete without one. And I know they can afford it!

At the last one, the restaurant was spacious with a trendy vibe and had additional rooms for special functions. And unlike the previous places it wasn’t part of a chain. It was the type of place where dining felt like a treat.

This time, the hostess was an attractive young woman with a big personality. She lived in the coastal town where I grew up, just an hour south of here. She told us that ironically, she lived in a condo overlooking a cemetery.

I know the condo and that cemetery, it’s where my mother is buried. And I’d never want to live in that building, even though it’s lovely, since it’s too close to my mother for me.

As with the investment luncheons, some hosts are more aggressive than others. They remind me of dates who seem to think that because they bought you a meal, you owe them!

This host, a young hottie approached everyone asking, “Your place or mine?”

I declined, and I could tell she was quite unhappy with me.

Also, on the forms there’s usually a box to check if you do NOT want to be contacted again. And I always check that one, yet I’m frequently contacted anyway! – This time I was not.

I plan to be cremated. My dentist told me that if no one claims a body, it’s cremated for free. – I have no problem with this. I have a bigger issue with being exploited financially by a funeral home!

It’s not as if I’m still going to be around. I’m not planning on doing any haunting. – Unless Dictator Don is still in office. In that case, every time he walks into a dark room I’ll be there waiting. I promise!

My longtime friends of many decades are now dead. The others will probably miss me for a while, but they’ll move on, as they should. And most will probably be sloughing off the mortal coil themselves before long. All of us are members of the over 65 club. – In 2 months, I’ll be 10 years over!

Since I’ve had experiences with ghosts, I believe in an afterlife. We’ll meet again on the other side, sooner or later.

TOXIC CALLERS

 

Recently I received that scam phone call with the woman announcing she's on a recorded line and inquiring, "Can you hear me, OK?"

Red flairs began going off in my head immediately. This is an old scam actually. Your "YES" answer is used to gain access into your personal info.

This boggles my mind that they can do it with just that! To view my bank account online I practically have to jump thru flaming hoops followed by a tap-dance and then stand on my head while juggling bowling balls!

When asked if I could hear her OK I shouted "NO!" so loud I hope it blasted her ear drums! Had I been upstairs on the other line I would have topped it off with my police whistle to make sure!

Back in the 1970's I received a call I'll never forget! Back then, answering machines may have been around, however there was no need for one. Unlike now, the phone didn’t ring all day with telemarketers, scammers, & charities. Nine out of ten times you knew the person on the other end.

This particular incident happened on a Friday afternoon when I was alone in the house. A man asked for Mrs. Lininger and I replied that she was out for the day. He then asked is Mr. Lininger there? I told him that he was in West Palm Beach, I was their daughter, and did he want to leave a message?

What he said next, turned things upside down and twisted our conversation side-ways in a whole different direction.

"Do you love your mother?" he inquired.

"No!" I answered loudly with a laugh.

"This is not a joke!" he shot back and repeated the question.

I was silent. Never have I been close to my mother. Mom's love was the strangling kind and I'm rather fond of breathing. And I found the question intrusive! He repeated it again.

"What is this about? Why are you calling?" I wanted to know.

"Your mother is going to be blinded," he declared. "Do you love your mother?'

My initial thought was, who has Mom pissed off now? This was during her fanatical religious period that immediately followed the loss of Dad's high paying job. She dove head first into the bible and it was not unusual for her to tell people they were going to hell for not being church goers.

"Who is this?" I asked.

He just repeated all the above like a parrot!

I demanded to know who he was, plus how he knew, and when this going to happen!

Apparently, he was not expecting all these questions! He became agitated and seamed to freak out while repeating those same things over and over. Finally, he asked "Is there anyone else in the house?"

That was it for me, I hung up! Immediately I called the police!

Soon after, an officer arrived to make a report. He stated the target was not my mother, but me. He explained that sickos feel powerful by getting in your head and messing with you. I knew people like this in high school so that made sense.

He felt the call was probably random. But what disturbed me was that the caller knew the correct pronunciation of our family name, most don't!

When my mother returned, I told her everything that happened. She seemed unconcerned.

Later, my memory was jogged. Just three days before a couple of young guys in their 20's came to repair a cable outage. One behaved creepily! He kept staring at me strangely, then began gazing around our house in an odd manner, and then back to a fixed stare at me.

I can't prove he was the one who phoned, but I'd bet on it!

OFF TRACK WITH THE TRACFONE

 

A migraine inducing exercise in futility!!! -- Also why I’m keeping my landline.

Recently, I purchased what is commonly referred to as a drug dealer phone. It was the cheapest one I could find. This was for emergencies; and eventually to replace my landline saving me money, I thought.

Why are all these modern devices made for elves? It was so tiny I had difficulty reading it and finding anything even with my glasses. And it doesn’t help that my vision is impaired thanks to posterior vitreous detachment, which I developed after cataract surgery.

My power & internet go out with alarming regularity here, taking my landline along with it. My lifeline is my next-door neighbors. The lady is sympathetic, but although she denies it, her husband doesn’t like me. – Probably because I vote differently!

She has informed me that if I require help, I’m no longer allowed to ring the bell or knock since it upsets her husband. Instead, I’m to write a note and tape it to the glass on their front door. She’ll see it and help me.

I find this silly, and more than a tad belittling. So, I purchased the Tracfone. I’m a senior and far from a tech person, so I had to pay $150 an hour for a professional to set it up. He gave me a crash course, and I took notes, but I still couldn’t figure out how to operate the damn thing! And there’s absolutely no instructions that came along with it!

This I don’t understand, why are there detailed instructions with TV dinners that should be plain common sense, such as: Remove from box before placing in oven. Yet, with something this complicated that requires a manual there’s nothing!

I tried googling for instructions, hoping for a demonstration on YouTube, but also found nothing! I kept getting notifications, & despite my notes I was unable to open them.

In frustration, I checked the box again when something caught my eye. – There was a cancer warning! Hot cat pee! Cancer runs on both sides of my family. Both my parents died from it. I don’t want this cancer device anywhere around me! I really wanted to undo the deal!

Only a couple weeks later, I thought I’d killed it! Or else it read my thoughts and commit suicide. Since it was an emergency phone, I probably didn’t charge it as often as required. As I stated previously, there was absolutely no instruction enclosed.

So, I called their customer service. After a lengthy wait, a pleasant and patient lady with a foreign accent helped me. We chatted for quite a while and eventually got it working again.

I cancelled the auto refill after she confirmed what I had been told (too late) that this phone would not work once power or internet have been lost. Sadly, now I’m back to depending on my neighbors with my scotch tape & note paper at the ready.   

NONE FOR YOU, NOSFERATU

 

NOR DRACULA, COUNT ORLOFF, OR ANY TWILIGHT VAMPIRE, CREATURE, OR CRYPTID.

I’ve become a regular blood donor. I’ll admit my reasons are less than altruistic. Each time, I’m given at least a $20 (sometimes more) discount on my groceries. Due to these stupid Trump tariffs & being on a fixed income, I really need this! Like the old lady who peed into the sea every little bit counts! – That was a common saying when I was growing up.

I’d donate every week if I could, however I’m limited to every 8 weeks.

And besides, I’m given a fun gift: a T-shirt, cap, mug, etc. Also, they have a snack station, and I’m allowed to take anything home. Usually, I choose a couple small bags of Doritos or cheddar popcorn.

Before donating, I must answer a long list of embarrassing questions that are also rather insulting, such as: “Have you ever had sex for money or drugs, or had sex with someone who has?” However, these are necessary!

A bone graft would disqualify me. I’ve had several from my dentist. Thankfully enough time has passed that this no longer counts. My bout with skin cancer also counts but doesn’t disqualify me.

The process only hurts for a quick second. Afterward I’m told, “You just lost one pound, and then I’m shown the bag of blood.”

Once, I didn’t hold my finger down long enough after the needle was removed and blood streamed down my arm. Another time, they were training a rookie and didn’t get enough from one arm and had to stick me the other one, too.

I must wait 15 minutes before leaving, in the event of side effects or me fainting. Neither has ever happened.

Before departing, I’m instructed not to lift anything heavy.

Later, I receive an email stating exactly where my blood was sent, & to someone who needed it. A WIN, WIN for all!

CANKLES & SWOLLEN CALVES

 

I’ve had them, and that too!

Now I hear our President; the pussy grabber, convicted felon & rapist, and the draft dodger with bone spurs, has cankles. Well good, I say! But he deserves far, far worse! How anyone with a functioning brain voted for this horrible excuse for a human being is beyond me! Yet I know many who almost worship him.

Back when he was first running for the office, I saw the writing on the wall and planned to expatriate. Plus, the Third World is cheaper, and better suited (I thought) to someone on a fixed income.

I had it narrowed down to either Ecuador or Thailand. I took exploratory trips to each before deciding. – And glad I did!

In Ecuador my first trip, the shoes that were so comfortable strolling the mall & big box stores did not handle those cobble stone streets well. And I am unused that much walking, plus my home is a barefoot zone. On the Andes part of the trip, besides cankles I had sore torn-up painful feet.

In the Galapagos Islands, I bought a pair of flip-flops which brought some relief.

Less than six months later, I flew to Thailand. After getting off the plane, I was shocked to discover I had Ecuador feet! And my newly purchased walking shoes were digging into my flesh. But it was just the beginning!

Walking around Bangkok was torture! Next day I purchased a pair of thong sandals which I wore for the rest of the trip. However, there was lots of climbing as well as walking on the trip.

In Chiang Mai, I wanted to experience a Fish Massage. First, two men washed & bandaged my swollen bloody feet. When I rolled up my loose trousers, I was surprised at how tight they’d suddenly become. Back at the hotel, in my underwear, I couldn’t recognize my own legs in the mirror. I was shocked at how big my calves had become!

My trip was only half over, and I was in pain. However I was determined this was not going to slow me down!

In Mae Hong Son, I was surprised upon seeing a man wearing a TRUMP T-shirt. I gave him the finger, but he didn’t see me.

Both Ecuador & Thailand turned out to be too Third World for my taste. Among other things, I didn’t want to stand in long lines every month to pay my utility bills nor take a bus for 8 hours to see a movie; along with many other deal breakers.

And since then, both countries have gone thru negative changes that would have forced me to move had I expatriated. The result of a major change in government just as here!

Once home, my feet & calves soon returned to normal size. Of course, I’d gone on a strict fruit & vegetable diet. My weight plummeted to 118 lbs. I don’t care what Madison Ave says, scrawny and boney isn’t attractive! I looked much healthier and better when I gained some weight back.

Since then, I’ve twice had a cankle, first on the left foot, then on the right. The first was due to injury, the other too much salt. Both times, I looked like a human fiddler crab. But thankfully, both were temporary.

And as for Trump; please do us all a favor, have a stroke and croak!!!