Coffee sacred morning timeLife is full of little rituals.

We don’t usually recognise them as rituals, rather just the things we do and when and how we do them.

It doesn’t matter whether it’s getting out of bed or brushing your teeth, there’s a certain way you do it; that’s a ritual in as much a ritual as a Catholic who fingers their rosary without thinking.

My morning ritual, for it was a ritual, as sacred as the coffee that accompanied it, was to sit at my kitchen table with a view of the street, with coffee and the Press opened to the crossword page.

Coffee must be drunk, and the cryptic crossword completed before anything else happened that day.

Alas, I am in Brazil, I only get the Press cryptic crossword once a week on the net. Oh how I miss my little ritual. I have better coffee now, but I miss the newspaper. Brazilian newspapers just don’t do it, and their crosswords are pathetic.

2552The fickle consumer. That’s me. For years I have stuck to Pilão coffee because I considered it the best, but it went over the R$5 limit for 500gms (1lb) some years back and since I have diversified my tastes to whichever is on special; that could be any of three different brands. The other week, Pimpinela was on special, so I got a couple of sacks. It had been recommended to me. The result is that because of their pricing structure, Pilão has lost the custom of a fickle consumer who found a better coffee.

Businesses really are stupid.

There’s not really a lot to say today, other than it’s sunny and mild; it won’t last, another cold front has crossed the Uruguay border in the south and should be here by the weekend. Pyjama weather.

Yesterday, I was changing out of my pyjamas to go to work when the student rang and cancelled, I changed back into my pyjamas and continued blogging.

So far today, I have blogged. I have managed to avoid the steely eyes of the dishes in the sink. I have lunched, I have napped and watered the plants. The highlight of the day was squeezing fresh orange juice, so yummy.

stoppedmedsvoices1I saw this yesterday, and made a meme thingy for it.

I don’t take Prozac, but I can imagine it.

To me the message is, leave the meds, be yourself; stop trying to be normal, it’s boring.

Later.