When I was little, I would watch my mom brew peppermint tea whenever she didn’t feel well. When I was sick, she’d offer to make me some, but I’d wrinkle my nose at the first sip. How far I’ve come.
I don’t really remember when I changed my mind, but I love tea now. I tend to collect varieties of tea. Green, black, white, herbal. Hot or iced. Tazo, Celestial Seasons, and a variety of delicious blends that I’ve found or been given.
I won’t lie: I know some of tea’s draw came from the period movies I watched, ones in which the classy ladies sit at small tables in drawing rooms or under tall trees sipping and chatting about life.
I drink tea on the go, but I prefer in a cup on the sofa or seated at a table. Forcing myself to sit and take a moment to breathe. Something about sipping the liquid soothes me. It is unequaled by other drinks; as much as I love coffee and Dr. Pepper, they’ll never win over tea. Whether I’m relaxing in the evening, waking up in the morning, or needing a little pick-me-up mid-afternoon, little satisfies me like a cup of tea.
Today is the birthday of a dear friend, a second mother as I grew up. She loves tea even more than I do. So this is a shout out, much love and joyous wishes to her this week.
And nothing goes better with a cup of tea than a fluffy, flaky scone. Yum.
I dealt with a migraine yesterday, so I’m combining the two. Migraines–not something I’m grateful for.