Over the past few years, I’ve become a big fan of loose tea. It didn’t happen accidentally. It’s been slowly cultivating since I was younger and my uncle’s friend the herbalist sent me a bag of her own homegrown herbal tea, which I enjoyed thoroughly. It was the the first time I’d ever made loose tea before and mistakes were made. It wasn’t until I met my dearest that I really began to fall down the rabbit hole. He’s something of a tea aficionado and had all the necessary skills and supplies.
One of my mom’s favorite stories about me took place when I was just two years old. Family legend has it that Mom was at the hairdresser getting her hair taken care of and she had brought me along. I was sitting with my favorite book at the time, The Cat in the Hat, waiting for my mother’s attention to return to me. So, I was saying the words to the book aloud and turning the pages, toddler style. It would seem that my poor mother had read this book to me so many times that I knew when to turn the pages (clearly I don’t have children as I have no idea how she could have even had the time to read that story to me that frequently). A woman was sitting nearby, waiting her turn and staring at me as though I had lobsters crawling out of my ears. She was stunned for it seemed, to a casual observer, that I was reading. But, as it turned out, I just loved that book.
Life certainly has been hectic lately. Between work and family illness, things have been a wee bit more stressful than normal. There’s also been a bit less cooking and even less elaborate cooking (my beloved dishwasher has been under the weather). Though I sometimes fancy myself as the sort of person who puts a nutritious dinner on the table every night, in practicality it looks more like a rotation of cheese and carbs (grilled cheese, quesadilla, macaroni and cheese). The system is also heavily reliant on leftovers and cereal. But out of the madness has come a few small victories, like pumpkin curry.
2 weeks into the very strange diet and well… it’s been rough. As it turns out, I eat a lot of sugar/dairy/gluten/soy. Caffeine has turned out to be the least of my worries. But, still, I persevere. In truth, physically I feel a bit better. I was hoping for slightly faster results but I suppose that’s true of a lot of things.
Can I just say? It is so hot. It has gotten ridiculous over here. We’re topping triple digits more or less daily. Walking from my car to my apartment in the afternoon has become my least favorite activity (four in the afternoon or so is the dead zone). This is the time of year when most sane people start eating exclusively from the refrigerator. Unfortunately, I am not one of those people. When it gets hot, I make chicken stew. I don’t totally get it either.
So it would seem that 2013 has set out to be my year of mysterious ailments. Between being sick and learning about me, alcohol, and planes (it’s a no), things have been pretty intense. If only it had stopped off there.
Instead, I started seeing red bumps on my arms. They didn’t itch or do anything—they were just there, hanging out. They spread out over most surfaces and didn’t really itch but were clearly starting to get out of hand. So, while my aunt the doctor was visiting, I asked her about it. She said it was most likely a food sensitivity and suggested I go on an elimination diet.