A Cure

My favorite part is chopping up the ginger.  The aroma alone is seductive.

And that color.

You make that first scratch with your knife against it’s delicate skin and the ochre of flesh underneath looks alive.  Breathing.  Vital.

I always begin by slicing thin layers that look like little coins.
Then I stack them and then proceed to cut them into matchsticks and then quickly chop them into little pieces perfect for the tea strainer.

At this time, the water is almost ready.  So it’s a quick dissection of the lemon into quarters and I reach into my spice cabinet for the cayenne and honey.

This is my morning medicine.  This is what I drink to give my immune system a charge.
This is what I digest to make up for the shorter days and homesickness I feel for the midwestern winters of my younger years.

Yes it would be easier to rip open a tea bag and check Facebook while the water boils.

But then I would miss the best part.