At any rate, between the tea drawer and the new electric kettle I procured--with automatic shutoff!--our tea drinking careers have blossomed.
I have a picture, but I won't show you, of what I did to my my mother's kettle while boiling water on the stove for tea. I went to her living room to get something and received several texts from my husband and a phone call too.
Did I totally forget about the tea kettle boiling on the stove? Yes, yes, I did. By the time I discovered it, it was so scorched, I actually had to wait for it to cool before I could separate it from the burner. So the next day I bought the one in the picture for our house. I don't trust myself anymore.
Interestingly, an ex-library copy of My Heart Lies South that I had ordered arrived in the mail today, and it opened to the chapter on medicinal teas that Mexican ladies regularly used to successfully treat various ailments, including menopause. My favorite one the author describes is
toloache, a dreadful mysterious weed, which is secretly given to husbands who have strayed too far from home and fireside. It effectually soddens them and if they are given enough of it, it causes them to sit drooling gently by the fireside forever, while Mama goes out to earn the living.
You just can't beat the early 20th century Mexicans for practicality in the handling of domestic affairs.
No comments:
Post a Comment