Coffee, Tea and Me

This week's column from the Marblehead Reporter, please share!

“Come let us have some tea and talk about happy things.”

---Chaim Potok

I’m a big fan of British television. From Monty Python (from which I can quote entire scenes) to Upstairs Downstairs, Downton Abbey, Dr. Who and anything else that involves the UK. Certainly 700 dead Irish Catholic relatives are spinning in their graves like rotisserie chickens, but it’s true. Anything involving the Royal Family, World War I, World War II, Churchill, London, phone boxes and silly sketches about parrots, Spam and coconut-clacking knights will always entertain me.

In any good British film or television program there have to be several scenes of characters having tea. It’s probably a rule, sent down from the Queen herself, via the BBC that tea shall be served early and often. Some think that the idea of a bunch of Brits sitting down to tea has to involve an elegant drawing room, a tea cart full of priceless china and an unobtrusive butler standing by to manage it all. That’s not it at all. Some of my favorite scenes in Downtown Abbey were the servants sitting down to tea at the end of the day or having a quick cuppa before the dinner service. It’s almost as if in some of these productions, tea is the great equalizer.

So, that’s how it goes on television, but what about the rest of us? The British might have their drawing rooms and servant’s halls, but we have Starbucks, and Java Sun and Atomic and of course the ever faithful Dunks. These places sell tea, but for most it’s about the liquid crack---coffee. I can’t start my day without it. Caffeine has been called the most abused drug in the country, and I’d have to agree. That first jumpstart in the morning from my coffee would be difficult to go without. Tea is different though.  If coffee is about speeding things up, tea is about slowing it down a little.

Think about it. Most people get their coffee to go. Order it ahead on a smartphone app and all you have to do is zip in and grab it. Hit the Dunkin’s drive-thru and you barely have to slow down to fuel up. There’s definitely a place for that, and I’ve been grateful for a roadside coffee stop more than once. Never once have I been disappointed by coffee, it never fails to be there when needed and it’s gotten many a job done. But…the sight of someone drinking out of a paper cup that has a wet and soggy tea tag hanging down the side will always seem a bit sad to me. Sure, we all have to get ten things done at once, so it’s become necessary to grab and go. It’s just that, like so much else in the world, tea was meant for better things.

A cup of tea should be shared with a friend. It’s meant to be lingered over. It’s not fuel to get you going, it’s more about helping you slow down. And who among us doesn’t need a bit of that?  On a shelf in my living room I have a little tin teapot. It’s stamped “Made in Ireland” on the bottom (as am I) and it’s one of my most prized possessions having been given to me by a friend with whom I have shared countless cups of tea. It was over those cups of tea that we held each other up in good times and not so good times. These little bits of tea and sympathy (and joy, sorrow and celebration) were sometimes the only way I didn’t go completely mad.

While I did not grow up in a manor house, or a castle, teatime was a staple when I was a kid. There were no servants bringing it, no delicately frosted little cakes and certainly no fine china. Everyday however, roughly around 4, everything would stop and my mother would put the kettle on. Sometimes the other moms on our street would stop in, other times it was just us, a couple of chipped mugs and whatever kind of cookies had been store-bought that week. It was a ritual of comfort and company that I intend to bring back in my house. It’s been far too long.

Tea isn’t just for British films. It’s for company and comfort, for friendship and family and most especially it’s for making time in the day for a small time out. The original pause button. With cookies, of course.

Midnight Musings From a Cool Mom

So, I have a 17 year old and for the most part he's amazing. Decent grades in school, already signed on to enlist in the Air Force after graduation and all around a smart, funny, sweet kid. Who wanted to go to GameStop to get Pokemon Sun Moon at the crack of midnight. He works part-time in a grocery store and paid for it himself, on a pre-order, weeks ago. So OK, why not? I agree to drive him to the store since his junior driver learner's permit doesn't allow him to drive after midnight. Off we go into the dark night and let me tell you, these nerds are serious. And when I say nerd, I include my own kid. Sitting in the parking lot, there was an air of excitement as people pull up and park and go in. If you'd pre-ordered you could go in and wait, if not, you waited in the outside line, in the cold, huddled in a Dr. Who shirt and droopy cargo pants. And so it begins, the great divide of those who plan and those who just wing it.

He's in the store and I'm outside because "OMG Mom, you can't come in" Oh sure, fine, I will just be outside with the car, perhaps I will polish the hood and spit shine the tires whilst I wait, young Master. The line was out the door at this point and while stereotypes aren't normally my thing, the customers waiting made the Big Bang characters look like the cool table. I sh*t you not, there were fully grown adults waiting and wearing Pokemon Onesies. The scent of Clearasil, Funyuns and Mountain Dew was wafting through the air and I lost count of how many times someone in a Star Wars hoodie and shuffled past me to their place in line.

 My son was not the only person there with a mom, but he was the youngest. Please Baby Jesus in the Clouds, let me not have a child still at home at 30 years old who I have to drive around to buy video games. At 17 it's still a little cute. At 30, it's a syndrome, it's failure to launch. I went into the store, because it was just something I had to see, this quest to be the first to get something 5 million people will have in 12 hours anyway. Immediately the person in charge (give a gamer a cash register and a lanyard and they go all power hungry) asked to see my pre-order receipt. Of course I didn't have that, I was just the driver. I was also asked to leave. Because this Pokemon business is pretty serious at 11:55pm. Timing is everything. I took my banishment from the Nerd Herd in stride and went back to my place, waiting patiently in the car. George got his game, and a special poster and pin to go with, since coming out at midnight deserves a little swag. Did I think this was silly? Completely. Did I get to spend an hour with my boy, my soon to be graduate and Air Force Airman? Yes I did. We were out late, we goofed on people, we laughed and we talked and by the end of the evening I was glad I hadn't said "Are you out of your damn mind? Do you not have the sense G*d gave a goose?" when he asked if he could go to the GameStop Game Drop for Pokemon Sun and Moon. I'd do it again too. Because he's still my baby boy, even if he is a geek. Pokemon tells us "Gotta catch em all!" The same is true for these fleeting moments. Catch em all. They are gone before you know it.

Friends and Family

Come on, a little rain never hurt anyone....

Ya, it's raining, so what? Come down to Cafe Avellino tonite and have a nice cuppa espresso or cappa...capa...screw it, I can't spell it, but that coffee with the designs in the foam! Meet the author (me!) tonite! Hope to see you there

Showing Up and Standing Up

This week's column, from the Marblehead Reporter  Remembering my father today, who was a local politician and fully believed in the process.

“Just because you do not take an interest in politics does not mean that politics won’t take an interest in you”

----Pericles

By the time this is printed, we will have a new president. Whoever it is will have made history. It’s been quite something this time around. No matter where you stood on the issues or whose sign was on your lawn, this election probably caused some stress, anxiety and maybe even a fights with friends and family. There were new lows in some of the campaigning and definitely some high points too, everyone could likely agree on that, even if no agreement could be reached on who was best for the job.

Early voting was a thing this year and while a quick check of Google tells me it’s not really new and that some states like Texas and Oregon have had it for awhile, it still seems both new and old at the same time. I am used to voting in the gym at the Rec and Park building, but early voters went to Abbot Hall. It’s definitely hometown bias and pride, but is there any place more historic, more American, and more suited to this crucial part of democracy than a building that houses a famous painting of the very beginnings of our republic? Still, I decided to hold out and vote on Election Day because growing up, even for small races, it was a very big deal. There was an energy to it that just doesn’t happen, for me at least, until the actual day.

My father entered politics early and often, having been elected to some imaginary office by his classmates on the school bus at the beginning of his freshman year of high school. From then on, if there was an office to be held, chances were good that he would throw his hat in the ring. School Committee was by far his favorite and where he spent most of his “political” career. Whenever town elections were held, I knew that a large part of the day would find him holding a sign on the sidewalk and the night would be spent waiting around town hall, the smell of paper ballots and cigarettes in the air. A chalkboard was the 1960s version of an electoral map and long table with a few telephones on it was the communications center. On this night only, I was allowed to stay up late and wait for the votes to be counted. Some years it took almost an hour in the little town of Nahant to count all the votes. That was politics back in the day and as much as I love social media and advanced technology, there’s something to be said for going old school.

What hasn’t changed in politics however is the concept of being part of the process. Not everyone wants to run for office and certainly not everyone should. That isn’t the only way to take part however. Did you vote this week? Anyone who didn’t, it’s now time for you to sit down and keep quiet. Early voting went on for eleven days here in town, with a total of 89 hours of availability. Then, on November 8^th, polls were open from 7am to 8pm, offering another 13 hours. Absentee ballots were available for those who might have been out of town. There was plenty of time to get out and vote. Perhaps some people just choose not to vote. Honestly, it’s easier for me to comprehend the Periodic Table of Elements than it is to understand the choice not to vote and that is saying something since I flunked high school chemistry.

My father gave me many things, from red hair and green eyes to a wicked attitude and a love of car rides to nowhere, but the most important of them has to be the belief that the voting in elections, at every level, is vital to all of our lives. He believed in the process, he believed was a citizen's sacred duty to cast a ballot whenever one was offered. And he believed it started at home, in our own communities. For him, it was about standing up and showing up. Here’s to moving on, to another four years, to new laws and old battles and the never-ending cycle of determining who we are and how we will run our towns, our states and our country.

What’s next?

 

A Day To Honor Those Who Served

So it's almost Veterans Day. My mother was a veteran of the US Navy, serving three years at Pensacola NAS. She always said it was the time of her life. Her service meant everything to her and she raised me to honor those who served. I volunteer with the USO as a way of honoring her. I wish she was still here to see my son, who will ship to the United States Air Force after his high school graduation. Thank a veteran today, they will be so happy you did.

Mary E. Driscoll Kelley--Navy WAVE, Mother, Sister, Wife, Veteran.

This is a column I wrote back in 2012 when I was with a local Patch new site. A good friend's husband was en-route home from a tour. It's not that long, and I think worth a read, because Cmdr. Stuart deserves to be recognized. 

“Nor need we power or splendour, Wide hall or lordly dome; The good, the true, the tender, These form the wealth of home.” - Sarah J. Hale

Anyone who knows me knows how much I love to travel. I am never so happy as when I am busy planning a trip. When I’m traveling, I’m like a kid again, wanting to see all the silly tourist attractions and taking embarrassing snapshots of my kids.

This past school vacation week was no exception. This year we departed from the normal amusement park/cruise ship kind of vacation and went rogue. Well for me anyway, which means we went into the wilderness, but we didn’t exactly rough it. I don’t think there is ever a good reason to sleep outside on the ground in a cloth bubble held up by flimsy sticks. A zipper is not a door, netting is not a window and a bag is not a bed. But more on that later.

We chose to see a national park, where the nature was viewable out the window of our hotel room. A room equipped with satellite television, running water, and wi-fi. Hey Boo-Boo, we were on our way to Yosemite National Park to see waterfalls, giant sequoia trees and maybe a smarter than average bear.

Yosemite is, in a word, ginormous. I knew before going that it was big. Or I thought I did. All the guidebooks, the pictures and postcards do not really convey how freaking huge this place is. In one day, we slogged through ankle deep snow and then hiked to a waterfall where it was seventy degrees and sunny.

Walking back from Yosemite Falls with my kids, I looked into the woods next to the trail and saw a cat. More specifically, a bobcat, with paws that seemed (but likely were not) the size of canned hams. Yes, I freaked out. I am not an outdoorsy kind of girl. I like nature behind a nice fence, with a gift shop and a snack bar. Not for nothing, the only bobcat I’ve ever seen was moving mulch around when the local playground was built.

After spending a few days in the woods with the beasts and the children (and trust me at times it was difficult to tell the difference) we finished our trip in San Francisco. We watched the seals at Fisherman’s Wharf, rode cable cars and did all the tacky touristy things families do. And I even managed a short visit with a friend I haven’t seen in way too long. And then it was time to come home.

No matter how much fun I have on a trip, I am always glad to be home. In my own bed, my faithful pug on the floor and the seagulls and ocean right up the road. This is my place. No matter how far I go or for how long I am away, it will always be home.

I was pretty convinced I knew what it was like to come home to the relief and comfort of all that is familiar after days of hotels, restaurants, rental cars and sightseeing. Turns out I didn’t have a clue.

I came home to the happy news that Commander Lee Stuart, the husband of a dear friend, had landed on American soil after serving a year in Afghanistan. I wrote about . They are just as amazing now, as they were then. For a year his wife Kaaren, and their three boys Max, Alex and Kenneth have kept it together while Lee stepped up for his country.

In his journey back, on Monday of this week, he was a mere 250 miles from his home. Yet he will likely not be in the arms of his loving family until Friday night due to out-processing, flight schedules and other commitments. Wow. And I was put out when my flight to San Francisco was delayed three hours. While I almost had a stroke because a very tame animal walked by me, this Navy Commander kept his entire team safe from things far more dangerous than an overgrown housecat. I had the nerve to be sick of restaurant food; he spent a year eating out of vacuum-sealed envelopes.

I was wrong when I said there is never a good reason to sleep outside on the ground in a cloth bubble held up by flimsy sticks. The men and women of our military do that and more every day, and in conditions far worse than a national park. Welcome back Commander Stuart. Thank you for your service and for showing me what coming home is really about.

 

Author signing and a What-the-Hell Attitude

Want to sit in a lovely cafe, have a nice espresso or appetizer and talk about the book? Then you're in luck! I will be at Cafe Avellino on November 15, 2016 from 6pm-8pm. I will have signed copies available for sale, but feel free to come by and just chat.

Julia Child said "The only real stumbling block is fear of failure. In cooking you've got to have a what-the-hell attitude." I agree, here's what I had to say about food in the book:

"Food should be fun. It can be something we celebrate with and something that brings us together; it should also be part of our childhood memories. Comfort food is called that for a reason. What food doesn't have to be is complicated. Does it really have to be all about what's on your table? Can't it be about who is at your table?"

Come to the table. Cafe Avellino has great food, specialty drinks and excellent service, but more than that it's a place where people gather. Join us. 

Sink or Swim is available on Amazon.com