Last night, I saw the collection of pits accumulating on the window sill next to my dead bamboo plant. I remembered that edifying clip, the enthusiastic narrator, and the energizing eighties workout music to which it was set, and began to sprout a pit. That is to say, I have it suspended with some toothpicks in a glass on my windowsill beside winged stone cat. In about a week it should sprout eight white tentacles.
While I was at Sensibiliteas today I decided to be brave with my choice of leaf. The last time I was brave with my tea I tried something called “Mate Carnivale” at Alice’s Teacup in New York City. It contained cocoa, sunflower, rooibus, cactus, cornflowers, and almonds. It tasted a lot better than it sounds.
This time, I tried Holy Basil. For those who don’t know, this is basil that is blessed by the Pope on Good Friday and left sitting for three days in the company of a bishop. It has medicinal properties that not only cure blindness and leprosy, but also kills fungi.
I sampled a hot Styrofoam cup of Holy Basil with lemon, which the fellow who works there has successfully used to season a chicken (and kill cure its leprosy). It mostly just tasted like lemon, but I could almost feel the fungi flushing from my system, if there was fungi to be flushed. I purchased a bag of a Holy Basil blend tea called “Shanti,” a term I recognized from yoga that is usually in the company of several ommmmmms. I just finished a cup of Shanti and I approve.