Wednesday, March 24, 2021

the kettle

Each time I travel to England, I come face to face with the electric tea kettle. Even the simplest Bed and Breakfast will have that kettle, with some packaged biscuits and tea bags, all on a neat tray in your room. British travelers who go abroad and fail to find a kettle in their hotel room are outraged. How uncivilized!

If you make use of something in your travels, sooner or later you'll be tempted to bring it home. And I've been tempted! You flick the switch and the kettle reaches a boil quickly and then shuts itself off. Water is ready, perfect for your tea. (And I do drink tea daily.)

Still, I have this old stove top kettle and I've had it for decades and I have a little of Ed in me: why replace it? It works.

This morning the clouds stay, the sprinkles come and go, the wind picks up.  The overnight rains have brought out even more new growth. Lilies, daffodils, tulips, as if in a race.

 

 

 

No matter. I have a very early morning appointment -- one more to check off my list of delinquents from the year of hibernation. I quickly feed the chicks, play with them for only one minute and head out, yawning deeply. Way too early to be up.


 When I return, Ed is stirring. I finish my morning chores and we sit down to breakfast. 




We review things we could do outside, if only the sprinkles would let up. Realistically we will do none of those things. It's the kind of day where you will only work outdoors if you really have to. We don't really have to. Instead, I fall asleep with a book on the couch.

An hour or two later, Ed fixes himself lunch and in puttering in the kitchen, he finds my charred tea kettle, sitting on a burner, no water in it of course, just hissy noises of a scorched pot, long gone dry. I must have flicked the spout open so that no noise alerted me to a boil and then of course, I fell asleep.

Ed tries to scrape off the blackened grime, but I tell him to put it aside. I have this inner bubble of joy: I can finally purchase an electric tea kettle. Guilt free! To be delivered Monday!

Was it a coincidence that last night I looked back on Ocean posts from the Lake District of England? And that I wondered if I would again trek across those mountains that rise over the sinewy lakes? The kettle episode tells me that I am not ready to give up on the UK. My travels have stalled of course and who knows when they will unstall. But when they do, I wouldn't be surprised if I returned to places with long trails crossing fields of bluebells. With a tea kettle and biscuits waiting in my room upon my return.

(Just  to complete the coincidence cycle, I have a Zoom chat with these two, my fellow travelers to England a way long time ago!)