Dear Child of Mine,
I hope someday we can sit side by side on the couch, cozied up with a few blankets, sipping a cup of our favorite tea and enjoying good conversation. I am a tea lover, and I hope you will be too.
My mom and dad have always been tea drinkers – Dad with his classic black Lipton, with a long steeping time and lots of cream and sugar, and Mom with her herbal teas and a half packet of Splenda.
Loving tea has developed over time. In high school I developed an affinity for Apple Cinnamon Tea when I would share a cuppa and a conversation with my friend, Maria.
College introduced me to the wonders of lightly sweetened Blueberry Tea. My roommate, Brittney, spoiled me with a cup whenever I asked.
Since then, I’ve expanded my horizons to include an appreciation for most teas. Your dad has a wonderful collection of loose leaf teas; they’re so pretty in their mason jars all lined up on the stove. The Orange Chocolate Black tea is one of my favorites. I enjoy French Vanilla or Winter Spice blend, a good Earl Grey, a mug of Lemon or Peppermint if I’m a bit under the weather, perhaps a fruity herbal teas when the mood strikes, and green or chamomile if I’m feeling particularly docile.
Every morning before sunrise, the first thing I do is plug in my 1985 Hot Pot (a $0.50 rummage sale find!) which works like a charm, and pour myself the first cup of the day.
I love holding the warm mug in my hand (the mug is key to the tea drinking experience).
I love the steam rising to my cheeks.
And, I confess, I am a tea-bag-re-user. As long as there’s flavor left in those leaves, I’ll use the packet again and again. That’s my frugal/practical side coming out.
My cinnamon-clove spiced tea as lost its warmth, telling me it’s probably time for bed.
Goodnight, sweet one.