I’m getting sick. My neck is tight and my eyes, when I look in the mirror, have that other-worldly, I-am-doomed sparkle.

I still went writing this morning, though. Ate my raisin cookie and drank my two-dollar coffee and rearranged words and thought real hard for a few hours, but back home, I’m clearly on the way down. Even with Ibuprofen, I’m flushed and achy. I finished reading one book and started another, and then it occured to me that if I wanted to write a blog post before I hit the do-nothing, pure-misery stage, I better get busy.

So quick. Before I succumb entirely, I must tell you about lemons.

On the way home from writing, after picking up my younger son from his friend’s house and stopping by first the bank and then the grocery store (for orange juice and cough drops, among other things) before heading out of town, I remembered a store that my sister-in-law had recently told me about. A Lebanese store, right on our end of town, that sold naan and hummus and such. So even though I was faint with hunger, I doubled back into town.

They didn’t have fresh naan — just the frozen stuff — but they did have big, flat cracker-ish rounds that would go well with our supper of lentils and rice (that I’m now probably not well enough to make). And, just so we’d know what they had, my son and I walked the short aisles, pausing to admire the packages of compressed dates, the tins of loose-leaf tea, the ground bulger and pasta, the bins of fava beans and sunflower seeds.

It was towards the back of the store that I discovered a bag of hard, brown, mysterious round balls.

“What are these?” I asked the shopkeeper.

“Dried lemons,” she said. “For soups and sauces, or tea. Just crack them open and simmer in water. They’re good for the digestion, too.”

Now it’s not even mid-afternoon, and I’ve already made the tea twice. The dried lemons are hard to open, but I discovered that one brisk whack with my heavy rolling pin does the trick. I simmer the lemon in water, then add a bag of chamomile for oomph, let the two steep together for a few minutes, and then strain, stir in some sugar, and drink.

It’s delicious, exactly the sort of beverage one craves when falling ill.

Cheers!

Lebanese Dried Lemon Tea

You can order dried lemons here, but I strongly suggest you track down your local Middle Eastern grocer — you know, to build community. Plus, it’s loads more fun.

For more information on dried lemons (or limes? I’m still struggling to understand the difference), read this or this.

1-2 dried lemons
2-4 cups water
Herbal tea bag, optional
Sugar to taste, starting with 2 teaspoons

Crack open the dried lemon(s) and combine with the water in a saucepan. Bring to a boil and reduce heat to a simmer. After 5 minutes, add the tea bag, if using. Turn off the heat and steep for another five minutes. Strain the tea, discarding the bag and lemons. Sugar to taste.

This same time, years previous: the quotidian (1.1.18), 2017, how to make a fireball, Christmas, quite frankly, constant motion, cranberry crumble bars, the quotidian (1.2.12), baguettes.

This same time, years previous: family magnified, our apocalypse, tamalada!, eggnog, throwing it down.

Right now, I am…

Savoring… lots of snacking meals of leftover cheeses, eggnog, nuts, cookies, and fruit.

Worrying… that perhaps I’m eating too much of the above?

Struggling… against the pull to be productive and disciplined while at the same time just wanting to luxuriate in the delicious holiday inertia for forever. Too bad “doing nothing” gets boring so fast….

Discovering… a new writing place! They recently (a year ago?) expanded their space, taking over a vintage clothing shop and transforming the former changing rooms into little cubbies, perfect for holing up for long stretches of time. The music is terrible (abrasive) and the coffee is tepid (though tasty), but the atmosphere is pretty swell. Want to join me? If you’re lucky, you might get the roomy handicap stall.

Signing up… for a publishing workshop with Jane Friedman. (No, the book is not done.)

Missing… Spanish, Puerto Rico, and — I can’t believe I’m saying this — hot weather.

Marveling… that Ghirardelli salted caramel boxed brownies taste exactly like toasted marshmallows! Am I the only one who thinks this?

Thrilling… over my sweet children who pooled their resources and surprised me with an absolutely fantastic chef’s knife. The comfy handle, the smooth rocking motion, the wicked-sharp blade — I am so over-the-moon.

Reeling… from the spontaneous purchase of a much-longed for macbook. This was not the plan. First, I bought a super-cheap Lenovo, but when we realized it was making a death rattle despite being brandnew, we returned it. Then, after much thoughtful and very adult-like deliberation, I finally settled on a better Lenovo — faster, more expensive. But — oh woe! — it was weirdly slow and kept blanking out. After working on it for a bit, my brother declared it defunct. By then my husband was like, Screw it, Jennifer. Just get a real computer.  So now our budget’s in shambles but I don’t really care because Oh my word, this computer is AMAZING. #noregrets

Failing… yet again to convince my husband to go on a run with me, grumble-gr. My sister-in-law, aka my loyal running buddy, broke her elbow (surgery, plates, pins — ouch!) and will be out of commission for a couple months, so now it’s just me out there facing the bone-chilling cold all by my lonesome. 

Appreciating… the meditative nature of solo runs. My thoughts go every which way and, when I return, I feel like I’m resurfacing from a deep fog. I like it.

Gloating… over my hearing test results. My kids always fuss that I’m going deaf, and I feel like I’m always saying What?, so when our pharmacy hosted free hearing tests for a day, I took one. I fully thought the tests would reveal moderate loss, but no — my hearing is excellent. Thus proving that it’s not me — everyone else is mumbling. (Or maybe I’m a lazy listener….?)

Watching… my older son’s snowboarding footage and wondering what sort of crazy person would even consider paying good money for the privilege (torture?) of whizzing down a snow-covered mountain with their feet strapped fast to a slab of wood? And then realizing, oh right — my kids.

Raving… to EVERYONE about Roma. Have you seen it? Everything — the realism, the acting, the cinematography, the intimacy — is utterly pristine and exquisite.

Finishing up…  reading Ender’s Game to the younger two kids, season five of The Great British Baking Show (and laughing at how the new hosts tear up all the time!), The Wife.

Assembling… a puzzle, meals from leftovers, mince tarts.

This same time, years previous: 2017 book list, 2016 garden stats and notes, 2015 book list, 2014 book list, remembering Guatemala, hot buttered rolls, chopped locks, one step above lazy.