The black pot went “Pah dah!” as I set it back down on its usual burner coil.
The kitchen becomes a percussive polyphony with the squeak of washing
adding to the swish of water, the brushwork of the plastic pad and the clang
of silver-wear against the rubber-coated drainer in my putting away of the day.
It has been a day of water, both cold and warming and a wind blowing mostly
cold with both Chac (The Rain) and Ithaqua (The Wind) were working against
my travels towards Ballard today in a blustery walk downtown, a chilly wait
then the slightly warming Eighteen before again a blustery walk from there.
The Sunset Hill Day Spa is barely started by the time I arrive after my added chilling. Lulu seems inured to the cold as she prepares the Lattes for which
she is known, within the Cabana: a fancy name for a tent over a driveway
from which the wind pushes continually in, as if it is also in line for Coffee.
Back inside, I put on the kettle for my hot chocolate, I had decided on instead. While the water is being heated, I’m given a tour of the new water-heater
which resembles a deluxe Artoo or Water-Vaporator unit, then upstairs again,
I finally get my hot water and as the Theobromine kicks in, I can be present.
As more people drift in from Canada, Bellingham and places closer in, the Spa
is finally starting to manifest. Nail polishes are repaired in between bites of omelet and other brunch-ish nibbles. A Drum-land session starts up which clears the room of all non-participants. One guy is on shaker-duty and I’m on frog.
At last, the Japanese wood-fired hot-tub is ready and the first wave of Spa-enjoyers, including me are soaking in the Tea: the nickname for the bamboo and other vegetative materials which are sharing the warming waters with us
which we tossed out. The octopus is consulted: we’re at ninety eight degrees.
As we rotate around the tub, so everyone gets the hot seat briefly, the water becomes even warmer, so that by the time I must get out, it is one hundred and three and rising. Once out of the water, the wind immediately chills me as I try
to dry off and I go back inside to don my outfit of Hot Pinks once again.
Gradually, the weather has been getting nicer, so I choose this time to leave.
I return to downtown Ballard with another long , but warmer wait and at last the Seventeen arrives a short time later I was back in downtown Seattle which was sunny and almost warm when the wind let up: the reverse of this morning.
Hungry and somewhat still chilled, I fixed myself spaghetti Arrabiatta and with a chunk of Ciabatta, I’m finally warm both inside and out. I had gone to the Spa and returned again having experienced a little version of Breitenbush without having to drag around the drag or picked up the nearly requisite communal crud.