Rooibo Bourbon. 1 Tsp ~7 min.
That’s what the instructions say on my Alice’s Tea Cup bundle of tea. Though it sounds like a song Crash Test Dummies would sing. It’s pouring here, and without exception, it’s a tea day. "Please," I pleaded to The Suitor, "make it for me?" I’m lazy and tired and he’s already up. "Only brew it for seven minutes or else it becomes bitter."
"Do you want to do it?" That’s my cue to shut it. I smile. He presses on. The tea tastes like what a pipe smells like. It’s perfect. Red. Warm, spicy, smooth, and vanilla sweet.
Last time I was in London I loaded up on teas and jams. Gifts for friends, but once I arrived back in the states, I didn’t want to part with them. Silver needle jasmine. Fig balsamic jam. So I visited Alice’s Tea Cup, a bit of magical tea wonderland that caters to children and pregnant women having showers. I stayed for scones and tea sandwiches with my own pot of tea, and I left with, "Anything that looks like I might have brought it back from England," which meant tea kettles. But I couldn’t just bring them back a kettle without tea! So I sucked it up and gave my friend, who was caring for Linus while I was gone, a variety of Alice’s teas along with her kettle.
"Oh my God, that bourbon tea is sooo good, Stephanie!"
"I know! The man at the store told me it’s decaf and that he has pregnant ladies who take the used leaves and rub them on their distended bellies!" My friend loves information like this. I still don’t understand the benefit of this or why the man at Alice’s felt the need to tell me this. "It’s my favorite," he also said. That’s always good enough for me, when the service staff tells me what’s good. "Well, I just love the chicken." Unless they follow it up with, "but well, I don’t eat red meat, so." I trust easily when it comes to food, despite how discerning I can be.
I don’t trust when it comes to movies. "I hated it and wanted to walk out," my friend Jennifer says of a movie she’s seen recently.
"So that means I’ll love it," I respond. I’m so easy when it comes to movies, especially a chick flick. Even when it’s bad, I sit through it and make the most of it. Just like days like today; thunderstorms are brighter with a spot of tea and a French toast stick for the dunking. Clotted cream would be nice. But I’ll settle for a viewing of Baby Boom, the perfect rainy day movie, aside from The Goonies. And I’ll shower while singing along to The Crash Test Dummies.