a cup of tea

I am reading a book called Three Cups of Tea. Its the biography of a man named Greg Mortensen who spends most of his adult life building schools in Pakistan. It starts with the tradition of tea, tea in all forms for anything business or not in this part of the world. I will get to a blog eventually about my favorite reading material but this is not it. I'm not far enough into the book to form an opinion, it just reminded me about my love of tea.


I'm not a coffee drinker and so by default I am a tea drinker. Though even that can be disputed since its rarely more that twice a week that I drink tea. But when I do, I really enjoy it. Really.


Several years ago, I inherited some beautiful tea cups from my Great Aunt Maria when she moved from her house into assisted living. This was very sad to me. I remember drinking tea with Maria on many occasions and the fact that she would no longer have need of her tea cups...well, it was just plain sad. And so I've kept them on a shelf in my kitchen, where they sit and I wash them every few months. To add to my little collection, Steve's grandmother chipped in a few from her collection which she is ever trying to reduce with seeemingly little success. Those lovely little teacups were also added to my shelf and grudgingly washed as necessary.


Recently, as in yesterday or the day before I decided that I need to start using them in a bid for "ALL things lived in" (meaning there is no point in keeping things we are not using). I've started taking my tea in these beautiful little cups. I drink mine black, or green, or red. It's a bit lonely though, drinking tea by myself, so if you're so inclined to join me consider this your invitation, I may even dip out to buy a few little sugar cubes which I'll keep in a pot handy for your visit.