Fresh Fish and a Tea Cozy

I love hot Earl Grey with fresh homemade Irish soda bread Southwestern style. Walnuts and japlaenos added. The recipe is from "Jump Up and Kiss Me" spicy Vegetarian Cooking by Jennifer Trainer Thompson. From her I learned to add cayenne and cinnamon to my chocolate Texas sheetcake.

Hand washing my tea cozy I remembered a faraway friend. My pale blue and white striped cozy was handmade for my navy teapot with a hole for the handle and one for the spout. A white and a pale blue puff ball are attached to the top. Crocheted or knitted? I can't tell. I started knitting a blanket before Krysia was born and finished it three years later when I brought Corrie home from the hospital. I knit too tight. Corrie's nimble piano fingers make her knitting look like marshamllows, gorgeous.

While in London I purused Harrod's, if we haven't got it, you probably don't need it department store. Yes, they have a dress code. A shopper in torn geans and flip flops might be turned away, even though Harrod's might sell the items at the store. People dress up to shop.

I had worked my way through the thousand thread count bed linens to the foods. At the seafood department I was stunned to see a fresh fish display of arranged rows of hand-sized fish in a sunburst pattern on an upright 5'x5' panel with cold water tumbling over all. Overhead lights made tiny rainbows. Admirers of all ages paused, nodded to each other and shook their heads in amazement. The display is changed weekly.

The best part of travel is meeting people. Mae was from Dublin, Ireland, the place of brightly painted doors. She had come to London to shop. We metat the fish display. A world traveler, she had been to the States four times, to the European continent eleven, Russia four, Australia six, to five African nations, and two South American countries to name a few. Her favorite place? Home. We exchanged addresses.

Months later a package arrived from Ireland. Mae made and sent a tea cozy. Every time I use it, I think of her. Here's to you Mae, my far away yet close in heart friend. May we meet again, on this side or the next.

2009 Red Convertible Travel Series

Around the World on a Bowl of Stew

It's snowing out. Three to four inches expected. Dunking La Brea Pane Toscano in my homemade stewed tomato, cod and shrimp stew, I looked around my kitchen, the extent of my travels for the moment.

Framed hundred-year-old colored magazine prints from Hay-on-Wye, Wales, feature chickens. A pair of black and whites with hats hang opposite a pair of black and whites with feathered feet. I can hear the hen's gentle voice calling her chicks and the rooster's bellowing crow over his proud family.

The print of an outdoor Paris flower market at the end of the table fills my mind with scents of lillies and daises. I want to sit at the umbrella table, sip coffee and eat chocolate filled croissants - several. The horse drawing the buggy leaves its own aroma. The pigeons are drawn to the beauty and possibility of crumbs.

My Nantucket switchplate lookes like scrimshaw on whale bone. I think it's plastic. The whaling ship is standing still or I might get seasick just looking at it.

Three two-inch square Dutch tiles display windmills, a small sailing boat, typical miniature houses, marshes and water in shades of blue. The sky is musty grey. Nothing dries outside. We collapsed a clothesline trying. I appreciate the contribution the Dutch have made to the world through flowers.

There's a card on the table with Mississippi cardinals. Brandi says when you see a cardinal, make a secret wish.

I met Mae from Ireland in London at Harrod's fresh fish display. We marveled at the fresh fish nailed up in a sunburst pattern. She crocheted the tea cozy and sent it.

There's a miniature Mexican coastline mural on the wall complete with parasail reminding me of winter vacations spent in swim suit and caftan, cliff divers, table dancers, silver jewelry, too much fresh fruit, grilled seafood and lazy days. Aaaaaahhhhh.

The French espresso cups remind me of Paris - again. At every turn I found a warehouse of information. It was like coming home.

There's a Chinese calendar on the wall. I have yet to walk the Great Wall.

I lift my cup of Chai tea to travels of the past and those to come.

copyright 2008 Red Convertible Travel Series