Giving this an opportunity to prove its calming and anxiety busting properties. Flavor is growing on me. Sort of like a sharper and sterner version of chamomile.
I am a hairball of anxiety this evening. Cancer found in my mom’s routine x-ray; moving into lungs and liver. Looks like an additional round of bureaucratic warfare is looming to prove that we paid to have our post-tornado ruins privately bulldozed and that we don’t owe the city for (not) doing it. Just when I think we can finally put all that behind us…
My mom (82) is facing the news wonderfully: “I know how it ends,” she says. My God has promised to provide for my needs and I believe that includes whatever it takes to slog through another tornado-related worry. Now if I could just get the Not Knowing Monster to remove his fangs from the back of my neck…
If this is as calm-producing as purported, I may have to buy it and tulsi by the bushel for the months ahead.
(P.S. Speaking of needs provided for in wacky and wonderful ways…a neighborhood stray cat, black with a few streetwise scuff marks, wandered into my yard for a cuddle earlier this week and has extended his hangout. Climbed into my lap and did that paw-paw thing that lowered my blood pressure 10 points. I haven’t broken down and bought a bag of Fancy Feast yet, but a friendship may be developing.)
Either a) this is an acquired taste or b) this cup had a few more chrysanthemum heads than the previous couple, but this round is a bit sweeter than the previous ones without additions of any kind. Less leaf mulchy. I think we’re finally getting acquainted.
