October 2002

soft, teapot evening

Monday, October 28, 2002, 2:17 a.m.

Today, inspired by Hollis, I am attempting something new. Something bold. Something ...not dependent on Diaryland.

So, here we are.

* * * * * * * * * *

We're well into autumn now. Everywhere I walk, leaves crunch underfoot, and my jackets have come out of the closet and, one by one, breathed the crisp October air.

I feel the air in my lungs, too, each chill breath grating a little over my sore throat. At night, I brew lemon tea in my new teapot - $10 at the jumble sale at the meeting house this weekend. The new teapot makes me happy every time I turn around to admire it. The bedside lamp reflects on the round, deep blue surface and makes me think of shiny garden globes. I've wanted a teapot so long - somehow, it symbolizes domesticity to me, and comfort, in a way that tea brewed by the cup only seeks to imitate. A teapot means hospitality, friendliness, asking, "Do you want honey in that?"

"You look soft today," Hollis told me. With my fuzzy pink sweater and lip gloss, rolling out crust for apple pie, I feel very girly ...and I like the feeling. Soft is nice; cozy is nice; apple pie and amber honey in a bear-shaped squeeze bottle are nice - need there really be more to an evening than that?

Days of Beauty
Copyright Elizabeth McDonald 2002

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