Rainy Day Reads

~terrariums, thievery, tea. what's not to love?~ Back in July, my mother and I took a terrarium planting class at Roosevelt's Terrariums . In the introduction to the class, the owner told an interesting story about how terrariums (thanks to their enclosed, miniature ecosystem in a bottle capabilities) made transport of plants on old sailing ships possible; allowing a man to sneak deep into China, learn all about tea farming, smuggle a large number of tea plants out of the country, and start a tea farm in Darjeeling, effectively breaking China's tea monopoly. I thought that it was a fascinating story, but sort of tucked it away in my head, and went on with my life. Fast forward two months later at a gift shop, and what do I spy but For All the Tea in China , an entire book written about that tea-stealing trip? What are the odds of hearing about a historical tidbit, only to see a book about it for sale mere months later? So because it looked fasc...

It's raining properly for the first time in months. When I got up, there was a chill in the air, but the sun didn't come to burn it and chase it away. Instead, the clouds rolled in and started to let droplets loose. Said rain droplets are making a comforting sound as the wind lashes them against my window, a sound that I have missed dearly these summer months. I have just finished a mug of tea, and am trying to talk myself into getting up for another. I have some samples of loose leaf tea that I am currently really enjoying, and a very cozy mug. I have some fairy lights going in some fall themed candle holders, and I've got the "Your Favorite Coffeehouse" playlist playing on spotify. I have my very large, very pretentious tome of Irish Fairy and Folk tales here by my side, and Goodreads tells me that I'm roughly 70% through. I've done some writing, some editing, and some general musings. I'm huddled up in my cozy hoodie dress and legging...

"There's nothing here!" the words on the empty blog proclaimed perhaps too happily, while a tumbleweed blew across the landscape. A few website gremlins stopped by, and rubbed their hands gleefully to find such a wonderful place to play their tricks. In the background, a few Hobbits ambled by, and there might have also been a dragon. But all paused to view the new sign, the one that had replaced the "There's nothing here!" proclamation. The hastily erected sign stood, rocking slightly in the wind. Its' slightly ominous hand lettered words declaring a statement for all to see. A statement that would stand for longer than originally intended, while the wheels of creativity vied with the black gate of writers block.