When I seek a small snack, or a companion while reading or writing, or a soothing mug of warmth on a cold winter’s day, I open my tea drawer (yes, I have an entire drawer dedicated to tea. Doesn’t everyone?) and view my selections:
Selecting the right tea feels like a kind of accomplishment within itself – a mini-triumph in the middle of a day when even a small success is a tremendous victory. I rip open the package like it is a brand-new gift, just for me to enjoy, place it in just the right mug (yes, I have a shelf just for mugs. Two, in fact), then put the tea kettle on to boil. Yes, I know that modern folks don’t use old-fashioned tea kettles. Not since the advent of gadgets like electric tea kettles and microwave ovens. But I will never get tired of using the old-fashioned kettle. I love the feeling of my anticipation simmering like the bubbles of water heating inside its secret depths, then piercing whistle as the steam rushes through the vent, screaming its urgency for me to hear, “Teatime! Teatime! Hurry!”
Every time I fill my mug, see the clear water stain with color, and feel the heat rise, I feel a strange sense of calm. My mind drifts back through time to stormy afternoons, sipping tea while completing homework, stirring in a spoonful of sugar while music played softly nearby, or laughing with a friend while smelling the spicy herbs that simmered in each cupful. No wonder tea is still the most popular drink around the world.
Strange how a teapot can represent at the same time the comforts of solitude and the pleasures of company. ~Author Unknown