Over Afternoon Tea

Tea is not only a drink but a ritual over which people have been relaxing, talking, and catching up on each other's lives for centuries. This blog is intended to serve as a virtual cup of tea, helping me keep in touch with friends and family in my physical absence.

Things I am thankful for:
Being able to type without pain.

And if I still have to apologize for not blogging in forever, you are sick and twisted people.

Yesterday I met a very cute fellow named Jared, and flirted with him enormously.
It would have been considerably more egregious, of course, if my husband didn’t have about four feet and twenty years on him. Jared’s dad, stuck in a bind with mom out of town, brought him into the office for a few hours. At first, of course, he played shy, and hid his face in his dad’s pants leg, and wouldn’t talk to me. I was not discouraged. I found more excuses than ever to get to that end of the office that morning. I have never been so faithful about checking the faxes. I smiled and waved at him each time, and before long he was coming to the door of daddy’s office to smile coyly at me before ducking back inside to the safety of daddy’s desk.
Eventually he decided I was all right, although coming down to my end of the office was too scary. But I went down there and we ended up playing ball. I rolled and he kicked. He’s got pretty good aim for his two or three years. Better than mine. I wish I could make friends as easily with people my own age.
And I want one.

It's Over

The long estrangement has come to an end at last. I've finally stopped avoiding Earl Grey. Madalyn was right all the time: avoid Bigelow at all costs! Oh, some of their teas are all right, but no Earl Grey.

As usual, it's Stash I'm raving about. Full-bodied and mildly astringent, with a light citrus taste and a wonderful bouquet. Perfect. The whole office smells like what air-fresheners try (and usually fail) to achieve.

It feels good to be back together.

“Have a seat in the conference room. Can I get you anything?” I offered. “Coffee, tea, water?”
It was a standard enquiry. It was always coffee or water. I only offered tea for the principle of the thing.
But she took me up on it.
“What kind of tea do you have?” she asked, warily. I could see a look in her eyes I was all too familiar with. She wanted a cup of tea badly enough to ask, but she was dreading the standard response (“Uh…regular and decaf?”) and finding a way to get out of it afterwards (with a polite “Um…maybe just some water, thanks”).
I found myself in a sudden quandary. I had never been on this end before. What to say? It’s all right, I’ve got the good stuff; no store-brands here seemed a bit…blatant. I gave my standard reply and hoped it would be reassuring.
“Black, white, or green?”
Apprehension faded, replaced by confusion. What kind of office stocks so many…?
“I have a very good darjeeling,” I hinted. My newest find. Light but rich, medium-bodied, ever so slightly toasty, with a hint of muscatel.
“Okay,” she said, beginning to figure out that I, not the office, was the one with the stash, when my boss emerged and swept her away into the conference room with smiles and greetings and hand-shakes.
When I came in a few minutes later with a steaming mug, perfectly brewed, she smiled and me and said “Thank you” like she meant it, and I disappeared as discreetly as secretaries should, leaving only a tiny moment of shared leaves.

On Genius

"They can go outside in the middle of a rainstorm, and they can just look at the raindrops and give you the exact chemical compositions of everything in the raindrop, but they don't understand why they're getting wet." -- Anonymous