Jigsaw puzzle and tea

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Casia Cafe and Tea Room, Jane Austen, Jigsaw puzzle

“A time to look over our week, recall blessings great and small and pick our five favorites to share”

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Cassia Cafe and Tea Room. I’ve been fancying this lovely place since I found it online. Finally I went and had steak and kidney pie. The green tea with milk and honey is divine.

CJ talked to me on the phone! “Mommy, I’m reading.”  The therapy sessions must have started taking effect.

Entertaining. Wednesday was a holiday and I had company over  which meant enjoying the added bonus of having my space especially clean and the fridge well-stocked. We were deep in girl talk late into the night.  When there’s no pressure and no tension that you’re still in pajamas at 11 AM, it’s a holiday indeed.

Work permit found! It was missing for days. I was worried sick thinking of the red tape I’d have to get through to get a new one. Just when I was ready to accept that, I found it underneath five pairs of sunglasses on the left side of one drawer.

Jane Austen jigsaw puzzle. It’s the most charming treasure I have bought so far. “Packaged in a book-like box, it features illustrations from the Regency era paired with quotes from Jane Austen’s beloved novels.”

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It is memory

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Jane Austen

I’m having tasty Oishi tea. My cup is one of a dozen I bought on an impulse in a ceramics fair almost a decade ago.  Part of its base is fractured, but the pack rat in me epoxied it back, forming a pencil line. Actually I never used it until it broke during a recent move.

I’m feeling half nostalgic, half in tune with the present. Natalie Cole’s live Unforgettable last Monday made me miss my father. Today I am bracing for a day-long faculty meeting.

On my mind are work deadlines and online time over the weekend. There is a huge file waiting for me in the office today. On October 30th is Talk Like Jane Austen Day. It should be pleasant reviewing psychological relevance of her works while attempting regency language in post-modern speech for a day.  Here is a little peek into the mind of one of England’s greatest women writers –

If any one faculty of our nature may be called more wonderful than the rest, I do think it is memory. There seems something more speakingly incomprehensible in the powers, the failures, the inequalities of memory, than in any other of our intelligences.

The memory is sometimes so retentive, so serviceable, so obedient; at others, so bewildered and so weak; and at others again, so tyrannic, so beyond control! We are, to be sure, a miracle every way; but our powers of recollecting and of forgetting do seem peculiarly past finding out.

Ruth hosts

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