What Kind of World Do You Want?

Start Now. 

Lovely song.  Lovely idea.  

“History starts now.”  

Wait, That's not right

When we clean a toilet, we *really* clean a toilet.  

Treasure

When I was little, I wasn’t really into tea parties.  I played with friends and cousins who had tea sets, but never really liked them.  Often they were plastic, unsuitable for hot tea.  Or dirty because the cups had been used to dig in the sand.  What was the point, really, if the cups weren’t functional?  I do remember, for a short while, that I had a tea set from my grandmother that I used.  I liked it much better because I could  pour real tea into the cups.  It was a bit intimidating, though, because it was a real china tea set—therefore fragile—and was decorated with pink cabbage roses—therefore a bit too frilly for my taste.  I’m not sure what happened to that tea set.  And I’m not sure whether my brief experience with functional (albeit fussy) tea cups as a child had anything at all to do with my current predilection for tea.  

Though I drink tea every day, often several times a day, I have for years functioned with boiling my water in a tea kettle or microwave, brewing my tea cup by cup directly in the vessel that I planned to drink out of.  Namely my mug.  

I have frequently admired tea pots.  I am absolutely in love with the idea of the sublime and ridiculous in tea cozies.  But until now, I have not owned a tea pot.  

Surprise me, I received birthday treasures in the mail last weekend (what, I wondered, happens to packages destined for areas afflicted by hurricane?  what happens to mail when areas are evacuated or destroyed?).  My step-mother has been throwing pots for a couple of years, and has sent me the loveliest of surprises, her first tea pot and a set of four cups.  I love them.  I think they are so fantastic.  Beautiful without being the least bit fussy.  Dense to hold in the heat.  Each cup with enough individual character that each user can know which cup is his or hers.  

There is something really lovely about the purposefulness of using a tea pot to brew the tea.  It is an extra step that many would find unnecessary or cumbersome.  That extra step demands that I slow down, consider the elements of the experience of the tea.  The smell, the temperature, the feeling of the steam.  I pour the hot water from kettle to pot.  I pour the tea from pot to cup.  The sound of the liquid falling into the vessel is different at each step.  There is a particular sound as the lid of the tea pot slides just a bit when I hold it to pour.  A solid, earthy sound,  of stone with an echo of life.  A cup of tea from a tea pot is a cup of tea to ponder over.  A cup of tea to share with a friend.  

Come have a cup of tea with me. 

Not Done Yet

Ok, so I really really hoped that I was done with Ike.  But Ike isn’t done with us yet.  Not by a long shot.  

Partner’s parents, northwest of Houston a couple of hours, experienced Category 1 winds and buckets of rain.  They’re fine.  Their house is fine.  They are among the lucky ones.  

They have been without electricity since early yesterday morning.  Their power company says it’ll be somewhere between five days and two weeks (weeks!) until their power is restored.  Besides lacking the obvious luxuries like fridge and air conditioning, the pump on their well is electric, as is the overflow on their septic tank.  So the less obvious luxuries of bathing and flushing are out for a while.  They can cook on a gas stove, but have no way to keep food very cold.  The local town does have electricity, and the roads are clear and stores and restaurants are open and functional.  We have nonetheless encouraged them to come stay with us for a while.  

Granddad works in the insurance industry, and will likely be busy for the next few… well, for a while.  

On a psychological front, I can’t let go of Ike yet.  I feel compelled to watch as the damage and casualties emerge, knowing full well that one of those splintered homes could have been mine but for a late curve to the north.  I feel compelled to grieve with those who have lost their homes, who may have lost neighbors and loved ones.

I am fine, and lucky, and I know that this second-hand grief will pass.  It will pass for me much more quickly than for those in Houston and Galveston and elsewhere in east Texas and Louisiana.  

I want you to do something for me.  Hug someone you love.  Call a friend you haven’t seen for a while.  Count your blessings.  Do something to help someone.  

Undo

The boards are down now. 

1:00 pm.

Tropical Storm Ike

31.6N 95.4W

About 165 miles north of Galveston, east of Waco and headed for Tyler.

wind 60 mph with gusts to 100 mph

moving north at 16 mph

Ike missed us completely.  At midnight the sky here was partly cloudy, the breeze was light.  It was hot and the mosquitoes were horrible.  At four a.m. (the predicted peak of our winds), there was virtually no change from midnight.  Eight o’clock this morning was the same, though dramatically dryer.  After three days of worry and fuss and falderall, we experienced no weather effects from Hurricane Ike.  Nary a breeze.  

As soon as we ate breakfast this morning, we were out pulling the plywood off the windows, and mowing the grass ahead of the rain we’re predicted to get from a cold front (totally unrelated to Ike) tomorrow.  Neighbors were out in force doing much of the same.  Boards down.  Potted plants and lawn chairs back out of the garage.  Swings rehung or untied.  

When the boards went up and we dragged everything into the garage a few days ago, we were operating on a good dose of adrenalin and anxiety.  The work was hard, but went quickly.  Now that the storm has passed us by, and with a hangover from a three-day adrenalin overdose, the work seems so much slower and more tedious.  But I’ll take this work over the work of pumping away water, sweeping away debris, cutting away boards or trees, living without power.  I’ll take this Undo work over that Recover work any day.  

Millions of people in eastern Texas are without electricity and water service today.  Check out the Houston Chronicle for local coverage of the damage.  Click the slide show on the Chronicle’s left column (“See Hurricane Ike’s Devastation”  I can’t figure out how to link directly to it) for particularly dramatic photos of the JP Morgan Chase Building in downtown Houston.    

I hope this concludes continuing coverage on Hurricane Ike.  I’m ready to think about something else for a while.  Like cake.  What do you think?  Almond cream or double chocolate with strawberry sauce?