And So to Booze
Moody moments by stormy seas and sad but lovely songs. I think you know where this is headed... here is what has found its way into my cup.
I know that drinking is the answer to very little (other than thirst), but a sip of something that tastes like summer blooms does do a little to remind the soul that the sun will shine again despite this grey upon grey winter.
A bottle of St. Germain is a lovely thing to have around. I feel entirely prepared if Hercule Poirot pops 'round to solve the mystery of missing smiles, for surely he would approve of this lovely liqueur. Mind you, it's not creme de menthe... so perhaps not.
Made in France of freshly picked elderflower blossoms, the process seems as pretty as the bottle. It is said the blooms are bundled up and transported by old fashioned bicycle to the collection depot. Oh bicycles. Oh how I miss mine.
A number of weeks ago I witnessed from the kitchen window a cat about to eat a bird. I rushed outside trying to prevent imminent demise, slipping down an icy set of stairs and falling into a bucket of water for comedic effect. I fractured my tailbone... the bird didn't live. I've been off my bike for too long a time but I shouldn't complain... I will ride again someday... the bird? She will not fly.
I'm doing some active healing work. Just today I joined a circle of women for some musical meditation. My darling friend is a concert pianist and had a group of 6 of us crawl under her new Steinway while she played for us, notes coursing through our broken bodies.
In a fine old house, high above sullen seas, laughing and crying under a piano, I knew it would all come right. I wasn't even drunk. There is indeed beauty in the breakdown.
Labels: soul searching