By Frederik Jacobs
INGREDIENTS
for approx. 1.5 litres
4-5 x tea bags of your tea of choice (red fruit tea used here)
4 tbs acacia honey
seasonal berries and fruits
mint sprig
PREPARATION
Place the tea bags in a jug and pore 0.5l boiling water over them
Add the honey to the tea and stir well that the honey dissolves
Let the tea bags soak in the hot water for approx. 15 minutes (depending on the tea. Certain teas have the tendency to go bitter after a certain amount of time in the water). Then remove tea bags
Place the jug in the fridge and let it cool for at least 5 hours
To serve place a few ice cubes in a glass and garnish with the seasonal berries and fruits. Garnish with a mint sprig.
Posted by The Better Blog on 08/18 at 08:28 PM
Filed under:
Frederik Jacobs •
Non-Fiction •
By Eve Sturges
(Author’s note: Let’s get real. I am a single mom! I date, but I don’t date THAT much. I have begun to interview friends, and collect some incredible stories, which I’ll have to use once in a while. This is one of them. So, written by me, still, but experienced by someone else. It only seemed fair to disclaim the awesome experience below. Capiche? )
PART 1.
Bob hikes really fast, really good. I mean, he is here for some serious fitness, and I am realizing this is the WORST idea for a date ever. I start to wonder if he knows CPR. I start to worry that I smell, and then I know I smell, and I start to worry if he knows. I am sweating everywhere, and the tips of my hair are starting to curl against all the product I’ve put in to keep it strait.
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Posted by The Better Blog on 08/15 at 12:07 AM
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Eve Sturges •
Non-Fiction •
By Slaven Svetinovic
I spent the last fall and winter in Prague. How it came about is not a big surprise: books have been written about twentysomethings quitting corporate jobs to teach and backpack around Europe, and I certainly do not want to add another story to the tired cliché. Yet as someone born behind the Iron Curtain, and having a sense of pride about it, I felt that there was a greater force guiding my return than your average mid-twenties existential crisis and a few thousand dollars in the bank.
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Posted by The Better Blog on 08/04 at 08:15 PM
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Non-Fiction •
By Eve Sturges
Excuse My Cynicism
Well, it finally happened.
Wait, let me listen to it again.
(3:45 minutes later) Yes. It’s me. Undeniably.
On my long list of dreams, squished somewhere between becoming a firefighter and kissing James McAvoy, sits some sort of misty fantasy about a hot boy writing songs about me.
Bob is that hot boy. (Surfing 365/year at 5 am does a body good.) Bob is funny (dry humor that makes me hurt inside.) Bob writes excellent songs that he sings with a gravelly voice, and plays on his guitar. He is sort of the quiet type, but fills the silence with his music, often picking up and playing in sort of random intervals throughout the day and night.
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Posted by The Better Blog on 07/31 at 09:00 AM
Filed under:
Eve Sturges •
Non-Fiction •
By Sara Martinez
I’ve always found it odd when people (usually ones attempting to make some “moral point") rally behind the cry, “Think of the children!!” It’s odd because it’s not like we are advocating for some minority group. We’ve all been kids, and when I was one, I was certainly not aware of anyone thinking of me. Generation after generation, people “think of the children!!” in an attempt to shield them from the immoral sins that lie in wait, ready to seduce them. Sometimes, best intentions are at heart—the desire to protect a group that will soon take over the reigns of the world. But, children should really always be in our thoughts and actions subconsciously, in that we should care about what happens to this world in everything that we do, not just in things that could possibly relate to children. I don’t agree that “think of the children!!” should be shouted out every time a moral debate or issue of ‘decency’ comes up, especially because it mostly seems to be something that people use as an excuse to hide behind.
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Posted by The Better Blog on 07/29 at 08:15 PM
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Non-Fiction •
By Rachel Seldin
So Saturday night you went out, took some great pictures. Now you have to upload them to your computer (oFoto, Facebook, MySpace and every other virtual site around) to only then be able to look at your photos when you’re nerding out at your computer. Whatever happened to printing them out, calling your friend’s “doubles” and putting them in picture frames around your room, showing off how cool you are? Well I’m about to give you a great reason to re-release the hardcopy of the photograph.
With this Do-It-Yourself Hanging Picture Frame project, you will want to show off the hot people you know and the places you go!
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Posted by The Better Blog on 07/25 at 09:00 AM
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Rachel Seldin •
Non-Fiction •
By Eve Sturges
Conversations About Life and Love with Lily, age 4
Listening to “Drunk” by Rose Polenzani.
Lily: What’s this song about?
Me: Um, well, she’s singing about a boy who hurt her feelings.
Lily: Why?
Me: He lied, and that wasn’t nice.
Lily: Why?
Me: Um, I don’t know.
Lily: Well, maybe he just didn’t want to marry her.
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Posted by The Better Blog on 07/24 at 08:48 PM
Filed under:
Eve Sturges •
Non-Fiction •
By Aaron Leroux
In the rapacious tempest that is the presidential election this year I have, only rarely, heard any mention of immigration. I’ve been hoping against hope to hear Barack Obama give some magnificent speech about how immigration is the in the DNA of this country and we must not run from what has made us who we are. I’ve been dreading John McCain prattling on about the wall to end all walls being built to keep “those people” out. Some pimply young republican will name it. And it will forever be referred to, without irony, as: “The Freedom Wall.” But alas… hardly a peep from either candidate. So I’ve written an immigration speech. Consider it a template on which facts, figures, policy ideas, and personal biography can be glued. I offer this speech freely and equally to any and all candidates running for any level of public office...who read The Better Blog. It is my hope that it will be plagiarized ad infinitum, and that I never be given any credit whatsoever for it.
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Posted by The Better Blog on 07/22 at 08:00 AM
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Non-Fiction •
By Paul Barrett
It took about five tries, but I finally got my CDs organized by color. I know this isn’t the most original idea ever—there’s this and this, and then my friend Zach organizes his books by color, too. These are all books, though, is the key. I’ve never heard of anyone organizing CDs by color, so as far as I know I’m the first one to do it. Anyway, the reason it took me so long is basically I just didn’t really think it out beforehand, like there were some things I didn’t consider. I started out with white at the top, so that was super easy. My plan after that was since several CDs were very, very light yellow, I’d have the whites start to gather hue, and I’d shift subtly from white to yellow, and then I’d proceed logically from yellow to orange, orange to red, red to purple, purple to blue, blue to green, green to black. This, though, didn’t really take into account the fact that within each of these hues there’s also a variance in value, which basically kills any possibility of an aesthetically pleasing gradient, trust me. What you get is a hideous light-yellow to bright-yellow to orange to light-orange to pink to red to dark-red etc., and basically you’re just all over the place. In short it just wasn’t working out, but that didn’t stop me. NB I tried something else in-between this attempt and my third/final attempt but I can’t remember what it was. So let’s just say it didn’t work out, either. OK so it took me three tries, not five.
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Posted by The Better Blog on 07/17 at 09:00 AM
Filed under:
Paul Barrett •
Non-Fiction •
By Eve Sturges
I feel like an orphan in Grand Central Station. That isn’t meant to be a metaphor; I really am in Grand Central Station. And I felt like how an orphan must feel, waiting for those special people to take them home, love them and care for them, feed them. Buy them a puppy.
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Posted by The Better Blog on 07/16 at 08:48 PM
Filed under:
Eve Sturges •
Non-Fiction •
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