Poems

January is Hot Tea Month

Well, full disclosure, I am a coffee person. Hot or cold, iced, espresso– doesn’t matter, as long as it is decent and made well. I came to tea a lot later in my life, and it was through reading P.D. James’ Adam Dalgliesh mysteries. I guess it’s the power of suggestion. There I was, minding my own business, reading the mystery novel (I recall it was The Black Tower, to be exact), and the main character was indulging in a hot cup of tea. It must have been the description in the text, but all of a sudden, I wanted a hot cup of tea, black, no sugar. I grew up with family members who liked hot tea with milk (no thanks), who liked iced tea with lemon (nope), who drank herbal teas, orange pekoe, Earl Grey– the works. But not me. I thought it tasted like dishwater (not that I’m a connoisseur of dishwater). But there I was, rummaging in the kitchen cabinet, to find a teabag. I don’t remember, but it was likely Salada, but maybe Red Rose. Hot tea, cold outdoors, good mystery novel, and a comfy chair. All set.

Even now, many years later, I don’t really like cold teas, I am not a huge herbal tea fan, and I don’t drink tea in the summer. Come winter, though, and I go hunting down a hot cup of tea in the afternoon, a little pick-me-up, maybe paired with a lovely clementine and some butter shortbread. Book in hand, tea steeping (still black, no sugar), and my comfy chair– I’m all settled in.

Isn’t it funny how we come to the things we love?

Keep well,

CMG

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