Water

As part of my new craze (well, standing craze) for self-improvement, I am trying to make myself drink more water. It sounds so easy, just to pour yourself a glass of water, eight times a day, and drink it.  But for some reason, it hasn't been easy for me.  I'm daunted by the thought of that volume of wetness.  (I don't much like getting into a swimming pool, either.) And although I think of myself as adoring all things having to do with Indiana, I must say that the water here tastes funny, at least for someone used to the taste of water in her home state of Colorado.

So at the Prindle yesterday, Linda, Nicki, and I were talking about water, and how boring it can be as a beverage.  There are a number of books with "water" in the title: The Weight of Water, The Color of Water.  We thought of our own title: The Boringness of Water. Then I left to go to my Philosophy Department office to collect my students' final papers for the semester, in my favorite ceremony where each student individually hands me his or her paper and we have a sweet moment of closure on the course we've shared together.

When I returned to the Prindle, I opened the refrigerator in the Prindle kitchen, and what did my eyes behold?  The most exquisite container of water, with sliced oranges floating in it, prepared for us by Linda. I poured myself a glass of water, turning the little spigot at the bottom of the container.  I tasted the water.  It was delicious, infused with a subtle flavoring of orange - nothing overpowering - but amazingly refreshing.

Orange water!  The best!

I hastened to Kroger after work to buy apples, limes, more oranges, a cucumber.  Apple water!  Lime water! Cucumber water!  I can hardly wait.
 

One of the little quotes on a Celestial Seasonings tea box says, " Bread and water can so easily be toast and tea."  Now I know that water can so easily be flavored water.

Off to pour myself another glass. . . .