Just back from the Berkeley Farmer's Market, where I sat in the sun, eating a very large and very delicious chocolate chip cookie (but not INSANELY delicious, so I didn't have to feel that guilty) and listening to mellow, vaguely medieval music played by a young man with an unidentified stringed instrument. The music seemed to float out over the crowd, perfect on a summer's day when you're relaxing with a cookie and watching the world pass by.
There were toddlers all over the place: a grubby one in camouflage sweat pants, a fashion-plate little girl with a Louis Vuitton-carrying grandmother, and many proto-typical Berkeley toddlers in mismatched clothes and sun hats. Many of them had a big cookie like mine, and some had an ice cream cone from the upscale ice cream stall.
A toddler of my acquaintance, Rylan, an indescribably adorable seventeen-month old, had a medical inning last week that shook up everyone who knew him. He managed to hit two children's hospitals in two states (he got sick while vacationing) and spiked a fever of 106 degrees. He had two seizures, which are apparently a child's way of protecting his brain from a high fever. This was very scary. At my age, I have come to accept a near-chronic angst about people over 50 developing serious illnesses and sometimes dying, but I am in no way ready for small people at the other end of the spectrum getting very ill. I had a very uneasy night when I heard this news.
Rylan has recovered and is now back to chasing his cat, tearing up newspapers, and knocking around in the world in the way that toddlers do. I made up a batch of the cinnamon and ginger tea my doctor recommended, which is so soothing that I am tempted to send the recipe to Rylan's mothers:
6 cups of water
2 sticks of cinnamon
1/2 cup very thinly sliced fresh ginger
2 T honey
Simmer for 1/2 an hour and strain. Drink to calm shattered nerves.
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