Poetry Friday: The Word is TEA
The Poetry Friday Word for today is TEA. Ahhh…such a lovely, warm word. Thanks to the uber-talented Gary Rith for offering it up in so many different glazed ways! Please feel free to use this word in your blog post today, in whatever fashion steeps your brew…story, poem, audio post, classy figleaf statue, lines from your favourite episode of Monty Python’s Flying Cirrrrrrrrrcus. (Sergei writes about the coolest wedding we've ever been to....)
I have a short post for now, something just went horribly amok at work and will take the rest of the day to fix. Argh…corporate America.
Have a good weekend, y’all!
Mona’s Tea Time
1) A co-worker asked me the other day, “Do you have any tea?” I laughed. A lot. I have a ‘collection’ of teas in my drawer, those pre-packaged bags that are easy to slip into a mug of hot water and take to a meeting. Yes, they’re not “real” tea in the loose-leaf-metal-teaball-requiring way…have you ever tried to manipulate a teaball when the boss and HIS boss are asking you about the yearly projections? It ain’t pretty or fun. I’m looking now…here’s what I have at work: Earl Grey…Early Grey decaf…Lady Grey decaf…Constant Comment…Constant Comment decaf…Lemon Zinger…Wild Berry Zinger…Vanilla Caramel…Spiced Chai…Ginger…English Breakfast…Chamomile…Lemon Lift.
2) My dad grew all sorts of herbs and plants when I was young and brewed them up into various teas. Most of them tasted terrible. The best was peppermint…just leaves and water. Maybe a little honey.
3) My favourite tea when I’m feeling lousy is ginger root tea. Simple to make. Take a ginger root (found in your local market in the produce section…it looks like a small man with crazy arms and knobs). Cut off a half-inch section and peel it. Slice it and drop into a mug, cover with boiling water. Let steep for a few minutes and sip The Elixir of the Gods. It cures whot ails ya.
4) There was a girl who lived next door to me throughout my childhood named Candy. Yeah. One day she showed me how to do a tap dance to ‘Tea for Two’. She was bossy and insisted I didn’t do it right. Later I found out that she’d never had a lesson, and just watched her older sister one day at her lesson. Bossy. Spoiled. Brat.