An infusion of camillia sinensis leaves in boiling water. Brewed until the water is deeply coloured. Strained into individual servings. The tincture can be sweetened with honey or sugar. Bitterness can be reduced by milk, cream, or lemon. Can improve alertness, memory, and mental acuity. Can ease headaches, and stimulate low blood pressure. Brings a reduction in the risk of developing certain cancers. Also known to settle vomiting and diarrhea.
Tea. The ultimate witch's brew.
I've always drunk tea. I remember being included whenever Mum would make one, from as young as six or seven. It would come in a beige tupperware tumbler, half full; milky and sweet. As I got tall enough to reach the kettle, making the tea became my job. My eight (or nine) year old hands struggling to lift the full teapot (a pastel toned cream and orange monstrosity), and pour the tea into the row of cups at the edge of the kitchen counter... a big cup for my stepfather, the flowery one for mum, and three beige tupperware tumblers - for us three girls.
By the time I was eleven, mum had left my stepfather, and the row of cups had became a thing of the past. She started drinking coffee, and I don't recall ever making her another cup of tea. Me though? I didn't like the smell, or the taste, of coffee, and stuck with what I knew. These days I take my tea in a proper cup, just like a grown up. Quite strongly brewed, with a dash of milk, and a heaped teaspoon of sugar.
Cups of tea are one of the ways I use to assess where my head's 'at'. Bad days can be measured in how long it takes me after waking, to make my first cuppa. Bad days, getting up and going to the kitchen -even for tea- is too hard.
Today was an average day. I got up (eventually - sleeping's been weird this week), managed to get myself showered, THEN I made a cuppa. Admittedly, I took it upstairs and went straight back to bed again, but hey, I was clean! Later on, I had another cuppa, and this time stayed downstairs for the time it took me to make, cool, and drink it. Time I spent with family, and the friend who popped in. I even laughed.
My morning cuppa gets me into the family area of the house. There are cups for - when my thinking starts turning dark and I need to jolt my brain into a different path, when I get emotional and need to calm down, and when I'm stressed and need a routine to retreat to. Lastly there are the ones I make from habit. The one after a meal, the one before bed, or the one I have when I'm not really hungry, but bored.
Good days I've been known to drink seven or eight cups. Today I've had just four.
Fancy a cuppa?
Derri.
Tea. The ultimate witch's brew.
I've always drunk tea. I remember being included whenever Mum would make one, from as young as six or seven. It would come in a beige tupperware tumbler, half full; milky and sweet. As I got tall enough to reach the kettle, making the tea became my job. My eight (or nine) year old hands struggling to lift the full teapot (a pastel toned cream and orange monstrosity), and pour the tea into the row of cups at the edge of the kitchen counter... a big cup for my stepfather, the flowery one for mum, and three beige tupperware tumblers - for us three girls.
By the time I was eleven, mum had left my stepfather, and the row of cups had became a thing of the past. She started drinking coffee, and I don't recall ever making her another cup of tea. Me though? I didn't like the smell, or the taste, of coffee, and stuck with what I knew. These days I take my tea in a proper cup, just like a grown up. Quite strongly brewed, with a dash of milk, and a heaped teaspoon of sugar.
Cups of tea are one of the ways I use to assess where my head's 'at'. Bad days can be measured in how long it takes me after waking, to make my first cuppa. Bad days, getting up and going to the kitchen -even for tea- is too hard.
Today was an average day. I got up (eventually - sleeping's been weird this week), managed to get myself showered, THEN I made a cuppa. Admittedly, I took it upstairs and went straight back to bed again, but hey, I was clean! Later on, I had another cuppa, and this time stayed downstairs for the time it took me to make, cool, and drink it. Time I spent with family, and the friend who popped in. I even laughed.
My morning cuppa gets me into the family area of the house. There are cups for - when my thinking starts turning dark and I need to jolt my brain into a different path, when I get emotional and need to calm down, and when I'm stressed and need a routine to retreat to. Lastly there are the ones I make from habit. The one after a meal, the one before bed, or the one I have when I'm not really hungry, but bored.
Good days I've been known to drink seven or eight cups. Today I've had just four.
Fancy a cuppa?
Derri.
Comments
Post a Comment