There is a calmness that comes right before and right after a storm. Some sort of silence, an unspoken sense of awareness that it is either coming or that it has passed. You can slice the peace from it and hold it in the palm of your hand, lift it to your mouth, suck it in, hold it in your lungs, allow it to rattle around and breath it out, and there it is, the peace, the quiet, the clam.
Have you ever looked at a child about to throw a temper tantrum? Their face turns red, their eyes grow dark, their body becomes stiff and then hell hath no fury on them. Look out world! This child is screaming, yelling, throwing shit, flailing its body in all different directions, going into convulsions, snot is coming out of its nose, there is sound, no words, just sound and all you can do is sit back and watch. Watch and wait while this tantrum unravels and hope none of the shit ends up on you.
Then out of nowhere its over, the child is done, like it never happened, they sit down, calm quiet, almost as if none of this had taken place, there may be a few hiccups here or there, some residual from the storm if you may, but its over.
The day was long, it was so very long and there was not enough coffee to get me through. I could not get a 20% tip out people if I got down on my knees and begged them for it. What is going on with the way people tip these days? I have not been sleeping, I am working a lot and I am just tired. I am tired of trying, trying to try.
So, this afternoon, when I went into the office and looked at my manager with the only bit of energy I had left for I was at the tip of a tantrum and this is when it poured out, “I have to go to the gym tonight, but I don’t want to go to the gym tonight, but I can’t go tomorrow, so I have to go tonight, but I am so tired, I want to cry. I really want to cry. I have to go to Target, but I don’t want to go to Target. I just want to cry.” She looked at me and as calmly as anyone spoke to me, she said, “Amanda, don’t cry. Please, don’t cry.” Here I was at 32 years of age, ready to have a full on temper tantrum. Yes, I was ready to throw shit, I was ready to convulse my body and have snot rush out of my face.
It was then, I gathered my things and hung my head and knew it was not worth crying over. It was not worth my tears. I walked out of the building; I got into my car, and took my shoes off. There is something to be said for flip flops on a hot spring day. Not only was it hot today, but it was thick… like Mother Nature was ready to throw her own little fit. It was on my way to Target that I talked myself out of going to the gym. ‘Well, if I have all of my food in the car, I simply can’t go to the gym, it will get too hot, so I have to just go home. Not to mention, I am going to the wine store, and I don’t want that to sit in the car while I am in there, so there, its settled, I am not going to night.’ WHIMP!
Behind me I could see the clouds go from a simple shade of white to a faint shade of grey, to a harsh bitter black. This storm was going to be quick, fierce and it was going to be amazing. It took me an hour and ten minutes of traffic to get home, but armed with everything I needed I was ready for tonight.
So, my readers, friend’s family and anyone who is willing to give me a moment of their time, I sit here, half in the bag, writing to you after the storm. It was beautiful, the lightning lit up the sky of Philadelphia, the thunder shook our very foundation and the rain washed away all of our heat! This storm cleansed us. There was a pressure that was building up all week, the hot, the cold the wind, and now tonight, the tantrum set forth and brought upon us a beautiful night.
My candles are lit on the staircase, dinner cooking on the stove, windows open and I poured a glass of Tempra Tantrum. I KNOW RIGHT?! How freaking fitting! Now be careful, I was sitting on the floor of the wine store looking three different verities of this wine. This is the 2006 Tempranillo/SHIRAZ. There was a Tempranillo/Merlot and a Tempranillo/Cabernet, and it was the Shiraz blend that I settled on.
This Spanish red at first sip is gigantic and fierce. It will bite you in the ass, and unleash its full body on your mouth with the first sip. It is not messing around. You have to let this wine sit, you have to let it have its “tantrum” and then enjoy it. As you may have learned this about me by now, I just dive right in, and drink, that first sip kicked the shit right out of me, it was like the wine said, “you want to cry, go ahead, I will give you something to cry about.” Whoa! After the first sip, and again the second, I had to exhale almost as though I were letting smoke out of my lungs.
This wine, reached me deep, deeper than the back of my mouth and my throat, but right to the depths of my chest. It puffed me up and consumed me. Nothing and I mean nothing existed at this very moment but me and these first two sips, and that was pretty freaking awesome. Picture for a moment, me standing in the kitchen, while the sky is reeking havoc on the city, the wind is blowing, lightening is blazing up the sky thunder is crashing against the walls, and these first two sips rocked my inner being. Now that is one hell of a temper tantrum!
Sitting here now, listening as the sky grumbles in the distance, and my day seems to fall to the past tense, I take another sip of this red bull if you may, and I taste the beauty of the juice, the spice on the front and the caramel on the back, my tongue is pricked with the bite of the plum and blackberries and I feel a sense of calm. I take a deep breath in, lets it back out, close my eyes and my shoulders fall, it is quiet, and the storm has passed. The tantrum has passed, and I am now left with peace.
Cheers!
