My friend J and I were discussing how we’ve introduced each other to different things. I’ve gotten her addicted to beading and photography. She’s gotten me addicted to tea. I, in turn, have gotten her addicted to loose-leaf tea.
There’s this lovely little tea shoppe in the city where we go to for farmers market. I love it. The aroma as you walk in is like walking into a thousand scented stories. Behind the counter are shelves – they’re lined with jars of loose-leaf tea. The rest of the shop is full of linens and a variety of sweets and coffees. It’s one of those gems that you have to *discover* to find. If any of you come visit me during college, I’m taking you there. (Unless you dislike tea, in which case that would be pointless.)
It’s becoming a ritual. In the mornings, I stumble out of bed, throw my hair into as best a ponytail I can manage (hey, this girl has really short hair), and go down the stairs to put on the hot water. There’s something beautiful about making loose-leaf tea – carefully pouring a small handful of tea leaves into a strainer, being careful not to waste any. Pouring the water into a deceptively large teapot over the said leaves, and waiting for it to brew.
It makes me take a few minutes to reflect on my day. It helps me relax in the crazy mornings, and fall asleep at night. I’m addicted, in a good way.