The Empty Jar

Whenever I’m going someplace in a hurry, I find the tea jar empty. I wish sometimes Son should fill it, but he has never done it. He uses the last tea bag, and that’s it.

I had an appointment at the Cardiologist, so woke up to get ready. It was then that Son told me that he needed me to make something for him to be eaten at Iftari, as he probably wouldn’t get home on time. He should have mentioned it last night. I would have gotten up earlier.

Needless to say I couldn’t let him go hungry after a full day fasting. That’s a mother conscience. He forgets that I do need time to prepare something for him to eat. Thankfully I did have samosa dough, and the filling for it lying in the fridge. Quickly I made a few samosas for him. Together with chat, and dates, he could break his fast at iftar time.

Looking at the watch I had fifteen minutes to have a cup of tea. It was then I found out the tea jar was empty. Son as usual had the last tea bag. The last person who uses it should fill it, but Son never does. I had to fill it, and made myself a cup of tea. I like my tea to get a bit cooler to take a sip. When one is in a hurry time speeds away. Leaving everything aside, I left for my appointment, barely reaching on time for it.

A Cup Of Tea

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Son in law FJ was unashamedly listening to Nola (daughter), and myself, when we were discussing names for my blog back in February 2013. I was visiting them in Saudi Arabia. FJ’s sense of humor gains its momentum when I’m around. He knows perfectly well that I easily get riled.

Nola wanted me to write, whereas I was hesitant, and wasn’t any keen, fearful of making mistakes. I had totally forgotten the English language, as my mother tongue is Pushto. Nola wanted me to remain busy, so that I could wade through the grief of her father’s dying. Back to finding names, and FJ barged in uninvited with suggestions: One Cup, Two Cups of Tea. The cups got increased in number, as with each of his utterances I kept saying No. It had no effect on him. He kept laughing.

There is a book by that name, probably Three Cups of Tea. That’s where he had picked the name, and stored it in his memory box (his funny brain). He calls it Kidney due to his perverse humor.

I didn’t know what to do with him. Obviously I couldn’t shoo him out of the room. I shouldn’t have started in his presence, as he became my very first follower — the one, and only follower from the family.

…

DAILY PROMPT

Tea

Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/tea/

Morning Tea

Daily Prompt: Pick Your Potion
Captain Picard was into Earl Grey tea; mention the Dude and we think: White Russians. What’s your signature beverage — and how did it achieve that status?

I can’t forgo my morning tea with breakfast. I love the taste of Earl Grey tea, but I like the Twinnings’ Classic more. They are heavenly.

I used to use two bags per cup. After learning that too much black tea is likely to cause cancer of the stomach, it made me a bit wary of tea drinking. Now I use only one tea bag.

In the beginning using one bag was a struggle, as I like strong tea (soothed my head), but now I have got used to it.

I take a big mug of milk, add one tea bag, no sugar, and microwave it for two minutes. Wait a bit; meanwhile empty the dishwasher of its load, while waiting for the tea to infuse the milk. Put everything in its’ proper place. Then I go back to the microwave, and press the start for one more minute.

Tea is ready. I gather my bowl of porridge, and a boiled egg, and I sit down to savor my breakfast.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/pick-your-potion/
http://wp.me/p23sd-naX

Words No More

Daily Prompt: Pick Me Up
What is the one word or phrase that immediately cheers you up when you hear it?

The words that used to cheer me up are no longer there.

The person who said them is gone, so the words are there no more.

A look at my face spurred my husband R to outrageous remarks. It would put him in immense good humor, if I showed any reaction. The more I was irritated, he enjoyed himself more.

I would walk in with his morning bed tea, and put it beside him on his bedside table. Yawning, he would sit up in bed, look at my face, smile and ask, “Do I love you?”

This was the daily question. The first time it did irritate me.

I would answer, “Don’t know.”

“You should be able to answer this question?”

“No, I don’t.”

Laughing and grabbing my hands, ( I would be trying to evade his hands) he would say,

“I do love you.”

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/pick-me-up/
Words No More