I have a favourite black tea called Lapsang Souchong Star that I get from DAVIDsTEA. Normally, I try not to promote a brand of anything, but this is a must-try. It smells like a liquid campfire – if that is possible. Others think it smells like smoked sausage – which is possible. Most people do not like the smell at all, comparing it to a barnyard – which is their allowed opinion.
We all have things we do like or dislike, obviously. Telling someone of these feelings is the toughest part. I do not like eating raw tomatoes (as I have mentioned before), but when I get the garden thing figured out I will grow them. I make tomato pasta sauce with tomato chunks, as opposed to using the jarred variety. I also do not like cowboy hats. Well, maybe a large rainbow-coloured one used to celebrate LGBTQ Awesomeness. Now that I think about it, I will get one of those.
Some people like trains and model villages. I have come across a fine site as of late from a fellow by the name of Tim Dunn – The Model Villager. Not having much experience taking the train (only one ride from Toronto to Niagara Falls in 2007), I am far from an expert on the locomotive thing. Also, Regina lost its train service in the 1990s due to Via Rail’s restructuring. The Union Terminal is now a casino:
Luckily Richard and I will be taking the train from Saskatoon to Vancouver in October 2016. I am looking forward to that. Unlike the trip to Niagara Falls, I will not get to see where Fuzzy Peaches are made.
My father, and to some extent my brother, like war planes. I think my dad prefers the British aircraft. I used to look through his book of watercolour pictures of the airplanes. I was not interested in the subject (and not really much now), but the pictures mystified me. The Spitfire is an obvious favourite. Radio 3 had a great concert – Battle of Britain at 75, a concert with the BBC Singers held at The Royal Air Force Museum. Some songs are available on the concert page, but not the pieces by Edward Cowie – 3 Spitfire Motets.
I used to make fun of quilters. OK, I still do; some are darn right crazy. I do not like sewing clothes. I have tried to make a skirt and realised it was not for me. The skirt was too big and the material was to curtain-like. No offense to those who wore curtain skirts. My placemats are in the process of being made, and hopefully they will get done before Richard just goes out and buys new ones. I do make homemade cards from scrapbooking supplies, but after a craft retreat a few years ago, I decided scrapbooking is a cult. Women had wheelie file cabinets full of paper of various shades. The contraptions used to make a thousand-million shapes numbered a thousand-million. I was scared that my cross stitching project was comparable to the shy kid trying to fit into the cool crowd at school.
I do not like Brussels sprouts. Or artichokes. Or kale. I love the people who do. Conversations about pumpkin pie and the joy of blueberry muffins makes for great debate and laughter. I will suffer through a piece of pumpkin pie out of respect for the host and the realisation that may be my only dessert option. Blueberries are tolerable, but if there is another choice, I will take that. Except cranberries – I am allergic to cranberries.
The first three of those previously-mentioned machines stink when cooked. Not like a liquid fire or a smoked sausage, but definitely like a barnyard.