Unexpected

I was reliably informed today - that a pale face and flushed cheeks with a semi-permanent drip on the end of my nose was not a good look (at which point I had a fit of sneezing prevented my manager finishing her sentence as she dived for cover) She returned, her face covered and pointed to the door uttering 'GO HOME'

So I did.

Several cups of tea and a good dose of tablets, nasal spray and cat love later, I am sitting at the lap top with Pepper on my knee and Pan on my feet - Think the NHS should employ cats - they so know when you need a bit of therapeutic sitting on.

Tea.
That in itself is quite medicinal - whether it is deemed as psychological or genuine, tea has such warming and comforting powers that I won't disagree with the feeling of contentment it gives me.

I drink tea in many forms.
I often use the'chuck-a-teabag-in-a-mug-followed-with-boiling-water-and-milk-hasty-stir-and-slurp' method. I know it will be volcanically hot but that is a risk I am prepared to take.

If there is time and the need not quite so reckless, then a teapot is selected, the tea brewed and revered. Milk is dressed up in a glass jug rather than the supermarket plastic dispensing bottle and added to the motley crew of favourite mugs and plate of tea time treats on the table. The four of us will sit around and talk and sip tea. The boys going down the 'letting-the-tea-cool-down-sufficiently-so-you-can-throw-it-down-your-throat' technique and using that cooling down time to stuff as many cake/biscuits/or other suitably naughty nibbly things into their mouths while we prefer the 'scald-the-roof-of-you-mouth-drink-it-while-it-is-hot' approach.

Then occasionally, very occasionally I succumb to a special ritual. Drinking a tea that unfolds itself like a lotus flower, filling the room with a delicate hyacinth scented bouquet. The pale amber tea feels like drinking liquid flowers.

The first time I was introduced to the delights of hand tied flowering teas was with a colleague who welcomed me into her home after work and offered to put the kettle on while I waited for an evening meeting to begin. A glass teapot was ceremonially brought out of the cupboard, a tea flower chosen and boiled water was added. 

We then sat back and chatted as the room, then the house gently filled with the jasmine scented perfume. Lifting the china cup to my lips was quite magical as I felt the steam tickle my cheeks. My entire head became suffused with the exotic warming fragrances of frangipani, hyacinth and jasmine. So delighted by the experience, I purchased myself a flowering tea and deeming a particularly dreary wet Sunday a good day to recreate the magic, I gathered my three, put on the kettle, laid out some baking and almost giddy with excitement I encouraged the boys to watch, to admire and to taste.
Wasted.
All that anticipation (on my part) was just good tea drinking and cake scoffing time wasted (on their part).......... Heathens - the lot of 'em!!


Tea.
I was a hardened coffee drinker with the accompanying tremors and fizzing head at 3 am, I am now just as hard a drinker now - only it is with tea. I must love the stuff - I have mentioned it here  and here in 2012, here  in 2011, here in 2010 and here in 2009


All photos are from my previous blog - which, while I was looking through it for images of tea drinking I realised how much more crafting I did than I do now.....hmmmm - think the balance needs redressing. But until then.
*sniff* I am off to bed, I feel a little rough.
x