How else does one make iced tea?

I remember this as a quote, but I don't remember the source:

"Americans are crazy. They brew a perfectly normal pot of strong tea, then they pour it over ice to make it cold and weak, they add lemon to make it sour, sugar to make it sweet, and mint to make it green."

It's not so much that that's how she likes her tea- I do too for that matter, it needs to be frigid cold! - but Sally Albright isn't as anal retentive about her chef salad as my grandmother is about her iced tea. She's had pitchers of just ice delivered to her table so she can do it if they fail to do it right. It's high-larious.

My grandmother used to travel with her own sheets, in their own damned trunk.

I think maybe being a grandmother comes with some sort of software thing that non-grandmothers aren't told about.

This explains a lot about my mother's recent behavior.

Teppy, I didn't disappoint. I'm just a sad little Chandler wannabe, but we can just add it to the brain damage, right?

Claudia loved diamonds. Loved the power of wearing them around her neck though she would tell you it was about the prismatic glint of the stones, or how tended she felt getting the expensive boxes. But would she kill to keep up her standard of gracious living?

I wasn’t sure. In a way, she was like her jewelry. One side was beautiful, and one side could cut glass. It was all in which way you looked.So far, I’d only seen the sparkling part, until she’d forgotten I was there and had tongue-lashed her assistant. But everyone had a bad day without somebody like me(and my one piece of silver jewelry) expecting her to be Eva Peron. Maybe I’d just keep my mouth shut for now.

Teppy, I didn't disappoint. I'm just a sad little Chandler wannabe, but we can just add it to the brain damage, right?

Heh. I was expecting a drabble using "ice" as a verb, as in "to kill." (Or am I mixing up my slang?)

But this one was, as always, fantastic. I love this part:

In a way, she was like her jewelry. One side was beautiful, and one side could cut glass.

Nope...that'll work. Just...the old-school one came up first. I'm off the hook like that.

the old-school one came up first.

Like I said, I dig it. No complaints whatsoever.

Freedom

The cold air bit at my cheeks, my nose, and my fingers, even through the mittens. With my hat pulled low over my forehead and my head ducked against the wind, I could barely see anything other than the surface beneath my feet. The only indication of other people besides me was the laughter and shouting from around the park. I could tune that out, though; I could lose myself in the movement, the flow. In that solitary cocoon of air and ice, snow and sun, the steady scritch, scritch, scritch of my blades said to me, “freedom, freedom, freedom.”

Sail, that's so damned cool.

Teppy? Tuesday? Topic?