From Grumbles to Gratitudes

Tea: Mandarin Orange with Honey

Music: Radim Zenkl, "Last Supper"

Time: Night.

I really hadn't intended to take this much time off for the holidays. But ... I'm back, even if not entirely coherent.

I suppose I can blame part of it on the Christmas whirl, another part on the bug I picked up a few days ago (which waited until last night to slam me and kept me in bed for most of today) and a third on the caffeine withdrawal headache that is only now going away.

But as someone wiser than I once said, the times when one feels sorry for oneself are the times to remember (and be grateful for) the good things.

So, I'm grateful tonight for the gift of the tea, which took away my headache; for a bed in which to sleep while I shook off the bug and for the message of peace that still manages to make itself heard if one can just turn down the carols and commercials for a bit.

Fourth out of three: Food, which I've had in abundance this holiday season and which a good deal of the world has to go without on a regular basis. A few rounds on Free Rice won't make all the hunger go away, but it's a step I can take right now while I'm thinking about it.

Not to nudge, but so can you ...

Inside, Outside, T-E-A

Tea: Oolong No. 18

Music: Holly Cole, "River"

Time: Night.

I made the tea just before leaving the house late this afternoon, because I hadn't had any caffeine yet today and I could feel a withdrawal headache coming on.

The travel mug I chose wasn't as insulated as some others I have, and I could feel the heat from the tea seeping through to my hands. As I was riding on a bus with a bum heater, this was a good thing.

The warming was more than physical, though. There was the warmth of gratitude for small pleasures, for the things (clean water, electricity) that went into making the tea -- things I take for granted, but which much of the world cannot ... and for the generosity of the giver not only of the tea, but of the teakettle and the infuser.

In cold times, it's good to be warmed that deeply.

Thankful to be Back

Tea: Berry Blush herbal

Music: Vince Guaraldi, "Charlie Brown Thanksgiving"

Time: Night.

For the past week, Blogger has been telling me my browser's cookie functionality was disabled. It wasn't.

Oh, well. I'm back -- and on Thanksgiving day, no less.

So, before my cookies disable themselves again, here's my trio of immediate gratitudes:

1. I and mine ate well today, and we have leftovers. So many in this world didn't and don't.

2. I have been able to renew several connections that had lapsed through no one's fault. Life just gets in the way sometimes -- but it's good to be back in touch.

3. I am not alone in the world -- and I have a chance every day to reach out to others so that they know they aren't, either.

I know that's four out of three. I can be greedy about gratitudes if I want.

Gratitude is always free-range.

Tea: Double Orange Chocolate Truffle

Music: Redbone, "Come and Get Your Love"

Time: Night.

I was prepared to unleash some serious snark when I saw this post on WalletPop's "Fantastic Freebies" blog.

This big smelly corporate poultry concern (A Yahoo! search using the keywords "Tyson chicken pollution" turns up ... wait for it ... 189,000 results.) was going to teach people how to be thankful for their food?

But I took a look at some of the examples posted -- everything from the flippant (Bart Simpson's "Rub-a-dub-dub, thanks for the grub" to the beautiful ("Now that I am about to eat, O Great Spirit, give my thanks to the beasts and birds whom You have provided for my hunger, and pray deliver my sorrow that living things must make a sacrifice for my comfort and well-being. Let the feather of corn spring up in its time and let it not wither but make full grains for the fires of our cooking pots, now that I am about to eat.")

And I thought, "Why not take a longer look?" So I clicked.

Reminding people that each meal is a grace and a cause for gratitude won't undo years of abysmal stewardship. But disliking the messenger is no reason to disregard the message.

It's All Coming Back to Me ...

Tea: Moroccan Mint

Music: Jamiroquai, "Virtual Insanity"

Time: Night.

Yesterday was a bad day for hanging onto things. Today was a great day for getting them back.

First, I left my cell phone charger at Homer's. Or at least I was pretty sure I'd left it there, even though nobody could find it when I called last night. Then I lost my bright orange Arts Incubator stocking cap, which serves the dual purpose of (a) keeping my head warm and (b) making me more visible to drivers when I'm out walking.

(I thought about saying something glib on the visibility front, but after the events that prompted last night's post I don't think I will.)

I found the hat this morning, in the middle of the sidewalk alongside a busy street. It lay there all night, and nobody took it. This was a happy surprise.

I put it on and continued walking to Homer's.

The barista rang me up and asked, "How are you doing this morning?"

"I'm doing okay," I said. "I'll be doing wonderfully if anyone has found a cell phone cord. I think I left it here yesterday."

It wasn't in the lost and found drawer. I resigned myself to an excursion to get a replacement.

"Wait," the other barista said. He went over to the coatrack, took a hat off the shelf ... and pulled out my cord. (Beats a rabbit any day.)

On the walk back this afternoon, I found a notebook near the high school. There's a name in the notebook, which means I can leave it at the office in the morning when I drop off my kids.

I'd say that not doing so would be a shame and a sin, in light of getting back my hat and my cord in the same day. But really, wouldn't it be inexcusable no matter what?

Two scary stories tonight, as promised, and they're both from the master. That's right, two scoops of M.R. James:

"The Stalls of Barchester Cathedral"
"Lost Hearts"

Happy with What I Have to be Happy With II

Tea: Mandarin Green

Music: U2, "October"

Time: Night.

It's raining, and I do enjoy a good chilly fall downpour. But that drip you hear isn't just the water from the eaves.

Yes, I'm still stuffy. And my left ear is plugged.

But you know what? I have hot water. I have tea. And even if I didn't have those, I have a roof over my head to keep off the rain.

I know I've said it before, but it bears repeating: When things seem crummy, count your blessings. A dose of perspective -- whether regular or decaf -- is pretty strong medicine.

So is a good ghost story. Tonight's dose: H.F.W. Tatham, "The Travelling-Companion"

Skippy the Wonder Chicken says Good Night

Tea: Blood Orange

Music: Del Amitri, "Always the Last to Know"

Time: Night.

Remember that stretchy (but non-rubber) chicken from the other night?

It's finally gone.

The final roster of meals to which it contributed:

Thursday lunch: Dirty rice for one

Thursday dinner: Roast chicken and vegetables for five

Friday lunch: Leftover roast chicken for two

Friday supper: Sausage and cabbage soup (with the leftover vegetables and a chicken stock base) for four (I was at First Friday.)

Saturday lunch: Soup for four (One of the kids had a scenery-building workday at school.)

Saturday dinner: Spinach salad with chopped chicken for five

Saturday late night snack: Soup (with the leftover chopped chicken added) for one

Sunday supper: Soup for four (One was tired of soup and had a sandwich.)

I'd say it's fitting that the last meal came on a Sunday. Church and thankfulness for blessings and all that. But I'm trying to make every day a day of gratitude, of awareness, of stewardship.

Heh ... guess this lesson tasted like chicken.

I know I slacked last night and didn't post a scary story. So tonight, here are two.

Thomas Peckett Prest, "The Demon of the Hartz"

Horacio Quiroga, "The Feather Pillow"

A Pleasant Reminder

Tea: Lapsang Vanilla

Music: Pink Floyd, "Learning to Fly"

Time: Night.

This will be short. First Friday has worn me out a bit. It was good, though. Got to see some people I hadn't seen in a while, found a few new (to me) spaces ... and as always, the art reminded me just how good Kansas City's creative community is.

The weather was gorgeous, the music (inside and outside) worth hearing ... in short, an affirmation of some wise words I've heard recently:

"I'd rather be poor and healthy than rich and sick."

Amen to that.

Tonight's story: Jessie Middleton, "The Ghost That Grinned"

Stretching a Non-Rubber Chicken

Tea: Blueberry

Music: Beastie Boys, "Sabotage"

Time: Night

So how do you feed five people -- three of them teenagers -- on one non-giant chicken?

Quite well, I'm finding out. And with the economy the way it is, anything that stretches out the food budget is a good thing.

The process started last night. I took out the giblets, butterflied the bird and set aside the backbone. (I know the link says to discard it. I can't afford to discard anything, right now.) Then I peeled back the skin on the breasts and thighs, rubbed some smoked paprika on the exposed meat and put the skin back. A dusting of smoked paprika and kosher salt on the skin, and the bird went into the fridge.

But wait, there's more. I browned the backbone and the neck and put them into a pot of boiling water, to make stock. I put the liver and gizzards into another pan of water and cooked them. After a while, I took out the neck and back (while they still had some flavor in the bits of meat attached to them) and put them in a baggie with the giblets.

The neck and back meat and the giblets were part of my lunch today. I made dirty rice, using the stock to cook the grains. With a few drops of hot sauce completing the assembly, lunch was served -- and enjoyed.

For dinner, I roasted the chicken, along with some vegetables (potatoes, carrots, onions and celery) tossed in olive oil and dusted with poultry seasoning, salt and pepper. On the side, iceberg salad. Now, in the past I've regarded two pieces of chicken as a snack and three as something of a divine right. But tonight, we all made do with slices from the breasts, and nobody complained of being hungry. (My stomach is shrinking, I think.)

I boned out the rest of the chicken, saving some for Mrs. Steep's lunch tomorrow. (I did save out the flat portions and the tips of the wings. Those are going to be my lunch.) The rest of the meat will go on a salad, most likely.

Done? Not yet. I make a stock out of the bones. That will be a base for soup, using the leftover roast veggies, the cabbage in the fridge and three jalapeno bratwursts (bought on sale for 60 cents each). With any luck, there will be leftovers of that, too.

Please don't take this as bragging. Take it, if anything, as an expression of gratitude for Providence and provision, and of regret for past waste -- and a determination not to take a full belly for granted.

Tonight's scary story: Algernon Blackwood, "The Lease"

Stuffed

Tea: Lots of kinds, lots of cups.

Music: David Sanborn, "The Dream"

Time: Night.

I had a long, catching-up post written. It's nowhere to be found.

I'm sitting in the driveway, in weather I normally would love (unseasonably cool) but which now aggravates my stuffed head and lungs. Why am I in the driveway? Because the house 'Net is out, and I can't pick up the neighbor's unsecured wireless network from inside.

Oh, and I've been sick, in varying degrees, since late last week, in case I hadn't mentioned that.

Yes, I'm trying to do everything right. I'm drinking tea, eating soup, bundling up and sleeping a lot. I megadosed on Vitamin C, which did interesting things to my insides. I've taken antihistamines, which make me alternately jumpy and stupid but haven't done anything to open me up.

Then again, I'm still out of the hospital, still breathing on my own, still able to sit up and write this. That puts me ahead of a lot of people, and for that I'm grateful.

And I'm wide open to the possibility, the likelihood even, that the antihistamines and the C and the tea/soup/sleep have kept things from getting a lot worse.

And now, if you'll excuse me ... it's time for the pill that makes me stupid.

Happy with what I Have to be Happy with

Tea: Blood Orange with Honey

Music: Dain Estes, "Before We Met I Knew Your Face"

Time: Night.

Another two-day combo post, sorry. The ankle's still screwed up, which means I'm spending a lot of time on my back with my leg elevated. Lousy blogging position, that.

But ... I've heard that when one is grumpy about something, that's the best time to be grateful for the good things. So, here are my three gratitudes for the moment:

1. I still have the power to get vertical, even if it hurts;

2. My hands still work;

3. Ice and aspirin. (Yes, that's four out of three. Got a problem with that?)

More later. I'm off to be back on my back.

Duh nuh nuh nuh NUH nuh nuh

Tea: Mandarin Orange with eucalyptus honey

Music: Dresden Dolls, "Coin Operated Boy"

Time: Night.

Apologies for the absence. But I'm back.

And it's my birthday. (No, I'm not saying how old I am. Let's just say it's a caliber.)

I have much for which to be grateful and thankful. I have been well fed, well loved, well spoiled.

And nobody sang to me in public. This is a good thing.

Shivers and Gratitude

Tea: Keemun Concerto

Music: The Hush Sound, "Wine Red"

Time: Night.

It's cold outside. Cold as in the single digits, when wind chill is figured in (and low double digits otherwise). Inside, it's not exactly balmy.

I'm going to wear layers when I sleep tonight. I might even break out a hoodie. Socks are already on the definite list. My foot hurts, and cold doesn't help.

But you know what? I still have it pretty darned good, compared to a lot of people in this city tonight.

My thermostat works. I could turn it up to 80something if I wanted, although I'd get yelled at and I'd have to turn it back down after a couple of minutes. I can lift a faucet handle, fill the electric teakettle, hit a switch and get more hot water. I can make soup. I have blankets.

I think of the people who can't, who don't ... and I shiver, and not from the temperature.

So here's a prayer for the cold and hungry, for nourishment and warmth. And here's a postscript: Let me never take those for granted.

Surfacing briefly

Tea: Cherry Chocolate Caramel Vanilla

Music: Various selections for piano and voice

Time: Night.

It's been a long but productive several days here in Weston, Missouri. Good food, lovely people and killer story ideas abound. (And yes, there will be plenty of pictures of rust and bricks and peeling paint. Some things never change, no matter the location.)

Tonight, there was excellent Cajun food at a new restaurant in Leavenworth. Then, back across the Missouri River in Weston, there was an impromptu piano/voice performance by one of the owners of the bed and breakfast that's home for the night. (Given that she's sung with the Kansas City Symphony, that was an extra special treat). And now, there's tea, and soon there will be sleep.

Blessings, all of them. And I'm grateful.

Worn

Tea: Pu Erh Poe with Ginger and Honey

Music: Elvis Costello, "Almost Blue"

Time: Night.

It's been a wearing weekend. And I am worn.

But I and mine are loved and cared for, thought of and prayed for.

And that helps. Immeasurably.

It's a grace and a gratitude, and I am grateful.