I’ve been wanting to write for a few days now but my thoughts haven’t been exactly focused. Still, I decided that the only way to write was to simply begin and see what happens.
I boiled water and looked forward to enjoying a cup of tea. It may not seem like much but my favorite tea hasn’t been sold locally for the ten years that I’ve lived in San Antonio – or so I thought! I was in the market last week and came across my favorite tea! My choices previously were (1) drink the same brand but with caffeine…really tasty, but I was trying to cut back on that …(2) order it on-line…too costly plus I don’t get to check the expiration date, or (3) buy it when I go to visit family in California…this is usually what happens.
I was so excited that I bought several boxes. It will keep me happy for a few months. I now know I can continue to buy it locally.
What’s the big deal? For me, making tea is like having one-minute aroma therapy. I like to open the tea bag and take a whiff. Red tea with a strong scent of cinnamon and star anise. Take another whiff. My mind begins to relax, even if I’m at work. It’s hard to have a frown on my face when I smell that. I also enjoy various green and white teas, but I had really been missing this particular brand. It’s one of life’s small pleasures. It’s also the reason I carry a few bags of tea with me when I travel. I don’t have to depend on the hotel or restaurant to supply me with my favorites. That being said, I’ve also encountered some new flavors along the way.
I suspect my tea drinking has to do with my grandparents. My grandfather would boil the water, steep the tea and pour me a cup. He would add sugar from the simple sugar bowl that now sits in a place of honor in my kitchen. That sugar bowl, which was my grandmother’s is close to 100 years old.
My grandmother used tea medicinally. She would grow varieties of mint in the back yard, pull the leaves and brew them. She also used to make chamomile tea when we were sick. To this day I always have some on hand for the same purpose.
As I sit here writing I realize my thoughts took shape in a way I wasn’t expecting. My simple cups of tea are really a connection to my past. I can see my grandparents going about their day while enjoying a cup of tea. I remember climbing onto a chair and waiting for my grandfather to pour me a cup. I would blow on it because it was so hot and he would always laugh. To this day I won’t drink it until it’s had the time cool just a little. It smells wonderful and warms me.
I guess my thoughts weren’t so random after all.