Thursday, August 06, 2020

THE GIFT OF PEPPERS

My apartment mate gave me some lovely chilies and a bottle of hot sauce from the Farmers' Market yesterday evening. Hot chilies.
Incautiously, I had some with my dinner last night.
Lawsy, miss Scarlet, I is wide awake now.

See, they were too small to quickly scrape out the seeds before I needed to plonk them in the pan. When I cook, I cook fast.

Chili seeds are rather like breakfast cereal between the teeth, and there are good reasons why I never touch that stuff. And oatmeal, of course, looks disgusting.

ARTICLE OF AMELIORATION

None of this interfered with my morning walk, though. First cup of coffee while looking strangely alert, instead of bleary eyed. Scope out the news, throw on some clothes, grab a pipe and walk out the door.

A good brisk walk. It's still foggy outside. I can't understand the weather we're having, it has been unnaturally cold this July and August. Frigid. Per the medical man I saw yesterday, feeling the cold more acutely is something that happens when one grows older. And he mentioned his father (anecdotal evidence) for comparison. The man used to go about at all times in his shirtsleeves, now needs a sweater.


I'll forgive him suggesting that I'm old. Which I'm not. Plus he also mentioned that one of the receptionists enjoys speaking Cantonese with me. Which seems to amuse or please him, I'm not sure.


Normally the people who enjoy speaking Cantonese with me are not American born. My apartment mate, for instance, has only belatedly gotten used to the fact that I know things, and am a useful source of linguistic information. Despite my HK thug accent. Often I and the stuffed creatures will have an entire conversation in Cantonese, much of it involving tasty food and why one should not use foul language of any kind (穢語 'wai yü', 爛口 'laan hou', 詛咒 'jo jau'), without her actually knowing what we're talking about. Obviously some of our smaller roomies have dirty mouths.
It's rather shocking, I'm afraid.

Personally I find it disconcerting when creatures who are less than twelve inches tall use strong language.


Because I am a clean-mouthed man. Acquainted with the proprieties.


Which is why I tend to smoke outside (when she's at home) and never swear in the bathroom, no matter how sorely tempted.


Those chilies were hot.


啲椒真係好辣嘅。
椒死啦。



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