I put on a pot of tea today, not doing well, weak as hell but can’t complain. Today’s brew is Tawantin Black Tea, which is not as purple as the Peruvian Spiced Berry in the photo’s cup. Yeah, snapped that photo weeks ago in kind of a show n’ tell after my cousin turned me on to Cleveland’s own Inca Tea.
I like the black. To be straight up and honest, I’m not that into tea so I’m still slowly tasting all the varieties that came in the Sample Box. So far, so good… most days, I opt for coffee. Sumatra is my favorite.
As for Troubles… I’ve had enough.
My little mask sewing obsession quieted itself. Suppose I should update Mice4Mars, sell off leftovers on eBay or something, but oh well. I just got tired of assholes claiming this virus would magically disappear on election day, mostly from idiots who now support a wannabe fascist dictator’s attempt to undermine our democratic process by overthrowing the results of an election. People are dying and they don’t care… it’s just a political ploy, a media hoax? Yeah, until you run out of fingers counting names familiar to your own self amongst the critically ill or worse. Bump the conspiracy bull.
I want to make paper.
I don’t have any proper screens for that, but I have two thin wooden picture frames, just cheap things sold as craft supplies to decorate yourself, and some scraps of window screen somewhere in this room. I don’t own a blender either, but I could maybe use one of those bullet smoothie things to make pulp, maybe the cup for chopping nuts. Those 4×6 picture frames would mold 3.75 x 5.75 inch paper, with rounded corners. Folded in half, hand stitched spine, would make nice little books. Or even as flat sheets, I could paint on them or something.
Echo in my head, in sister words: stop making small art.
Why? Is bigger better? Ironically, I’ve always been too big. Everyone always trying to cut me down to size. Too this, too that, too much. Bump that, too.
My cup is empty. Thanks for reading.