Sabbath

My cheeks feel the prick of a cold room and I wake up.

I sit up in bed and peruse a Vegetarian cookbook. The Sheharazad Casserole and Spinach and Feta Pie look good. Everything looks good. I grab a journal and begin a grocery list, then I get hungry.

After breakfast, I pull on jeans and a sweatshirt. I wrap a red knit scarf three times around my neck and fasten the toggles on my white coat. My brown beret pushes my bangs into my eyes, but that's ok.

The drive downtown is easy and the sidewalks are still waking up. I park and meet Katy at Batdorf & Bronson for tea. We talk about our students, our theology, our everything. She has a British accent and I'm still unsure how to say Batdorf... or is it Bardorf? I can't tell, but she says it so musically. I suppose I could just read the sign.

We buy tea at the Tea Lady store and leave downtown to have more tea at her house. I meet Katy's husband, Dan, and we sit in the living room listening to music, talking about music, and looking at her artwork. It feels like home.

Soon it's late afternoon, and Katy and I have shopping to do. We walk three blocks down the road to the Food Co-op. It's my first time buying groceries here. It's a small store, and I'm surprised to hear rap music bumping in the small store speakers. I pick out my produce and write down the PLU numbers in my journal, next to my grocery list. Some things I will buy at Safeway because I can't justify the price difference. But I like knowing that I'm supporting our local farmers in some small way here.

Browsing through the bulk, I see a container marked "Wiccan Women's Brew." Nice. Why don't they just write, "Witch's Brew"? Ingredients: one eye of newt, three dragon scales, the blood of an unhatched chick, fennel seeds, and monosodiumglutimate.

I become a member and check out, two bags full of greenery and some self-righteous pleasure. We walk home and decide to carpool to work on Monday. Excellent.

I make Sweet Potato Pancakes and Grilled Pineapple for dinner. I sit and watch a movie. I blog.

As I turn the light off, I remember the verdant smell of fresh parsley in the back seat of my car on the drive home.