The reason I enjoy and love tea is because it requires patience.  Right now, I thought, what shall I do while the water boils? I can write.  And while I wait for it to brew? Write. And while I wait for it to be cool enough to sip?  I can write.  All whilst engaging on one of the rights of passage of winter in a first world society.  The right of warm drink in wintertime.  With an enormous varieties of tea.  I’m choosing an herbal peach, which some might argue is not a tea at all because it is herbal.  I love summer fruit in tea in winter.  A hot passionfruit with a squeeze of lemon in it is an ideal winter drink for me, as it transports me to another place.  Then again, I am the kind of person who will heat cranberry juice (sometimes adding a little apple if I desire more sweetness) with cinnamon  in wintertime.  I just enjoy feeling cozy and whimsical and wonderful.

So here I am writing about tea.  Not pictures of tea, mind you, but warm tea, and warmed fruit drinks.  I love me some gluhwein as much as the next gal, but the nonalcoholic winter drinks are my favorites, with their hydrating goodness.

It’s time to pour the water.  Now the steeping.  There’s a wonderful peachy clove aroma wafting in sauna like tendrils toward my nose.  It’s like a spa just for my nostrils and eyebrows.

Even when I had no fireplace (and I do not have the one I have access to at the moment on), a tea could give me the feeling of warmth and moisture that I desired.  It has been so so dry these past four years, any moisture is appreciated.

Well, there are many things I could explain about teas and customs and loveliness, but right now I am just going to enjoy mine, with some cello and a book.







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