I never drink coffee because it always makes me very acidic and bloated. Once this winter when I started taking an ounce of Payson’s morning coffee and diluting it with a lot of water and or milk, I had a dream that made me stop taking it completely. I say to someone in my dream, Socrates had his hemlock and I have my coffee. I interpreted it as : coffee is going to kill me! I say the same thing when I get on a roll of eating chocolate. Well, I have had four days of  doing very little of what I usually do, just lying about, reading, or not even that, embroidering, cuddling, watching the tube. I had thought, my brain is tired (it was, from too much research and making notes on the research), my lungs are giving me trouble (they were), I need a rest (I did). But this morning I had an urge for coffee like you wouldn’t believe and whenever I have an urge that’s so strong, I indulge. I went to the kitchen (our cook’s away on leave) and made myself a cup (not an ounce or a hemi demi cup but a whole one) of coffee just the way I like it — with milk and honey and yum! scrum! AND I’ve been at my desk all morning, quite stoked with energy and happy to be alive and doing things like babbling here!

so, I shall resume, hemlock or not. I will not drink it regularly, as a habit, but as medicine. That’s the way to indulge in one’s vices. Speaking of vices, I have another one — playing electronic backgammon!  But instead of playing it the whole day ( I can, sickeningly) I limit myself to three games (at a time!).