Eccentric Tea Woman

 (Golden Farmers Market - Golden, Colorado) Many years ago, my mother introduced me to the world of French pastries when we walked into La Baguette in Memphis, TN. Although the little shop had many items to choose from, my mom showed me the almond croissant . . . and I haven't been the same since. Their almond croissant was heaven to my mouth - the tastes of butter and sweet almond caressing my tastebuds. I ate their almond croissants once every six months because enjoying them meant not only a decadent treat but also a little bit of stomach pain afterward. It seemed that while I could appreciate the finer foods of the world, my acid reflux thought otherwise. Since that time, the almond croissant symbolized a moment of sheer selfish pleasure for myself, the one time in which I throw all gastro-caution to the wind and just give in. The almond croissant has become a bit like a World of Warcraft quest for me - seeking it out every chance I get and knowing that the reward will be just ...

  Plural of everything can exist, possibly in mental notes and images. Was this the result of our wishes becoming fulfilled from a lack of desires? We have become materialistic, trying everything until there is nothing left to duplicate. Surely, textbooks will write of us one day. Viridian Tea Company - Tea Blends for the Strange and Unusual!

(Rikki Don't Lose That Number - from YouTube)   My mother introduced me to all genres of music while I was growing up - Stevie Wonder, Deep Purple, ZZ Top, and above everything else . . . Steely Dan. Now, when I first listened to this group, I thought they sounded really cool. Like "I'm too young to get what they're singing about but I know it's cool" kind of cool. I sang along with them about Rikki not losing that number, or reeling in the years (with CHEESE and not tears), and so on. And, for the longest time, I thought they were black. I wasn't trying to be offensive or anything like that - it's just that to my young ears, they sounded like black guys. Imagine my surprise many years later, when I discovered that not only were they white but also Jewish! And you know what? My love for them has not changed one bit, even as I embrace my 47 years of life on this planet. I loved Steely Dan back then and I love them now. In fact, I even got to see them in...

  My tears will no longer come yet my eyes are heavy from anger and lack of sleep. A light - there is always a light - is far away yet I can still see it in the dense fog created by breaking of trust. Someone broke it carefully, like an egg. I want my tears to come, seducing me into a false hope that I can no longer deny but accept from within. The light comes painfully, ripping my skin apart, preparing me for the next level of bliss.