Drinking Tea

A huge amount has been written about tea, it’s origins, it’s qualities both medicinal and otherwise, even it’s colour.  But for me, I don’t really know enough to comment on any of these things.  All I know is, there is nothing in this world like a fabulous cup of tea.  Just ordinary, no nonsense, ‘american tan tights’ coloured tea.

I can never decide which is my favourite cup, but the first one in the morning before life has really kicked in, is most definitely up there.  Then there’s the first one when I get home.  That is delicious.  Because, in spite of maybe having drunk many other cups of tea in different places, that ‘first cup when you get home’ is so much more than a cup of tea.  It’s end of day.  It’s shoes off, feet up, ten minutes of heaven.

Cups of tea have a down side too.  The frustration of having a cup of tea, leaving it whilst you go and do something, and then returning, only to find it’s now lukewarm. For me the moment has gone, the magic has been lost, and I have to get up and make another cup of tea to satisfy my quest for that ‘ahhh’ sensation.

Of course there is always the possibility that someone else might make you a cup of tea. Therefore the unexpected cuppa is quite high ranking in the list of favourite cups.  In contrast however, the surprise cup can also turn out to be the ‘dishwater’ cuppa which is even worse, as you then have to show appreciation for something that irritates your palate, and confuses your mind.

‘I thought we were having one of ‘those’ moments with a cup of tea’, your mind says

‘Instead we have dishwater served in a battered old mug which, quite frankly should be hung up on the eternal shelf, or thrown away’.  That’s maybe a little harsh but you get my drift.  And anyway, one persons dishwater is another persons tea perfection.  So I’m led to believe.

The thing is, every cup of tea I have, or make, I rate, mentally.  Is it in the right cup?  Is it the right colour?  Have I added the right amount of milk? Do they take sugar? (nothing worse than having a sip of tea with sugar when you don’t take it, or vice versa).  And so the eternal search for perfection goes on.

However, if I had to plump for one particular favourite time for taking tea, I think it would have to be the one that I have, sometime between waking up and going to sleep, that makes my whole body sink, ever so slightly, into a state of mild timelessness.