From Tea to Shining Sea

I am having a mid-afternoon snack of milky spiced tea, camembert on sunflower seed bread, some pear and a few walnuts in their shell. What’s that? Is it snowing? Yes, in fact, it IS snowing, which is why the tea is scalding hot, the camambert was left on the counter to warm for most of the day, and why I (inadvisedly) tried to toast the whole walnuts on the glass rangetop before shelling them.
The walnuts that weren’t smoky little bombs of charred bitterness were astoundingly good. I thought that I liked pecans better, but I was wrong. I hate being wrong about subjective things – it’s MY decision, isn’t it? How could I get it wrong?! It’s not like the time that I pretended I knew where infinity ended, or that chaos was pronounced with a ch-sound (as in ‘chump’, or ‘chortle’, or ‘chanukkah’.)
I think of myself as decisive except when I’m trying to make a left-hand turn into oncoming traffic (as my brother says, ‘Indecision kills; God hates a coward.’) I thought I preferred camambert to brie, that morels were my favorite mushroom, that pinot grigio and riesling were always better than chardonnay. Now I’m not so sure, which also makes me rethink the skinny grey jeans I wear all the time, the preference for clean white walls, and my fondness for Susan Sarandon: the movie Stepmom was atrocious and frankly the white wall thing may just be laziness.

Oh, I just remembered the thing that made me start doubting my decision-making abilities! Last weekend we went to the isle of Sylt, which was awesome (and awesomely cold…) I went to the art shop earlier in the day because I wanted to get some supplies for sketching on the 3-hour train ride there. When I opened my tote on the train ride, what had I ended up with? Two blocks of watercolor paper, two brushes, and a 34-count set of vibrant pastels. The resultant bright blue, powdery mess was like the pink stuff in the Cat in the Hat, only without the rhyming and without the tidy ending.
Also, I don’t know how familiar you are with North Germany in late November, but ain’t nothing bright nor blue about it.

Looks like I’m going to have to start from the top: do I still like ice cream? What about a scoop of ice cream with a shot of espresso over the top? I liked it last time I had it, but I’d better make sure. After that, let’s see if I still like pate…

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