Rain, rain, here to stay

[muckefuck]

I see a chill rainy day like this and think how utterly perfect it would be to spend it at the new place, reading in a quiet corner and sipping tea while listening to droplets pattering off the trees outside. That is, if not for the worry about what so much water coming down is going to do to our seepage problem. We have an estimate for the work, and it's not as steep as I expected, which is good, but it involves construction in common areas, which is less good, as it slows down the entire process and I want to finish moving in now.

Moreover, the only tea we have in the new place is Bosnian hawthorn tea, and I'm already sick of it. I thought it would be rather pleasantly floral, but it's mostly the mint leaves that you taste. That's not bad--I like mint and all--except that there's enough of an aftertaste I'm beginning to wonder if the mint isn't there more to cover up the hawthorn than the hawthorn is there to accent the mint. The translation on the label goes on and on about how good the tea is for your "hart", so I wonder if I haven't picked up something medicinal by mistake. So now I'm kicking myself for not (a) picking up something new at Meinl on Saturday or (b) bringing something over from my old place on Sunday.

At least the reading I can't complain about. I've got a bilingual book of Nuala Ní Dhomhnaill's poetry, which is exquisite, and the English versions are different enough from the originals that I feel compelled to read them both thoroughly, dictionary in hand.

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