April 16 • 08:16 AM
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I Have Taken to Tea


Aging, it's something that creeps up on you.

We all see it (some sooner than later) - the first sign is usually physical betrayal - knees, hips and other joints that just don't seem to be able to form to our mental expectations.

And then along comes mental betrayal - the old memory just isn't cracked up to what it used to be. I used to (and still do to an extent) keep up with multiple passwords for various email accounts, a hodgepodge of telephone numbers, daily appointments, birthdays and other items in my mind. No need for post-it notes, slips of paper, strings around the finger or other mnemonics - I kept it all in my head.

Now I understand why grandpa had that little notebook in his pocket. I'm not sure that there's any more to remember, it's just that it all tends to run together. So if you happen to be reading this, and I have missed an appointment, just give me a call and a reminder to jostle the old brain cells.

Which brings me to the topic at hand - Tea.

Now for anyone born and bred (or breaded if you happen to take your shrimp that way) a southerner, when someone says TEA, we naturally think - ice cold and diabetic shock inducing sweet. Anyother way of preparing it would be sacriledge, right up there with canned collards, and dare I say, instant grits.

So here I am to admit, and witness as my ancestors collectively roll in their graves - I've taken to drinking hot-tea.

My taste for tea - developed somewhere in my college days - can be credited to an ex-girlfriend with more continental tastes.

So you can imagine her horror, when after dinner one evening, she asked how I would like my tea - sweet of course.

After a few moments she comes out of the kitchen, with two steaming mugs, with little strings and tags dangling from the side.

Not that I was some bumbling uncultured oaf - but I had never had occasion to consume hot tea - the thought had just never came to mind. (see reference above about southern upbringing)

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So after some intense training, I grasped the basics of preparing hot tea, and cultivated a taste for the brew.

I chalk that up to aging, mellowing out so to speak. Speaking of which, my tea habit has become a liability as age creeps up on me. That little problem with uncooperative memory...

OOps! I think I left the tea water on ... That's must be what the little string on the bag is for - to remind you of the boiling water!

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