What sustains you? What do you do that makes you feel grounded or makes you feel for just that moment, that all is right with the world?
I have been asking my friends this lately and wonder, what would you say?
As for me, this photo is part of the answer.
My morning ritual unfolds like this.
When I come downstairs, I put the fire on under the blue tea kettle.
Then I let Calley out of her crate and take her outside, first up the hill behind the house and
then down the driveway to pick up the New York Times which is wrapped in blue plastic.
As I walk back up the hill, our brown dog leaps along beside me, all excited about a new day.
By the time we get back to the house, the water is boiling. I take a round tea bag from the red
Typhoo tea box (I only know of two stores in the Boston area where I can buy this English tea)
drop it into a hand painted Italian mug and let it steep for awhile.
I then add a sugar lump and some milk and carry it to the table.
Now for the Times. I glance at the headlines and editorials. I spend more
time reading them these days. There's a lot to keep on top of!
Then I take the Arts section and fold it back to the crossword puzzle.
Mondays are joyful as I breeze through the puzzle feeling really smug.
As the week goes on they get harder but years of practice have prepared me for this.
I know the difference between axel and axle, I know Jackie's second husband's first name.
I know the name of the river that flows through Florence, I know Woody's son.
Filling in the squares, figuring out the theme, feeling my mind crank away to remember
obscure facts is really satisfying. It is the one thing I can measure in a day.
The steaming cup of tea, the puzzle, the sun streaming in. Ah, these are the small pleasures.
