Since beginning teaching, I’ve tried hard to put writing into my daily routine. It seems the only time it can be “daily” is if I put it after supper. After school is camp work time. After that is treadmill time, then supper. Early, early mornings? . . . yeah, that isn’t happening.
See what I mean?
So, if it needs to be scheduled in after supper, I wanted to find a soothing, very low cal treat to have with it. Not coffee; caffeine at night doesn’t bother me, but it’s kind of heavy. Adult beverages would make me nod off.
When my nephew Chad chatted with me over Thanksgiving about his visits to a tea shop back in California, and he showed me the cool new cup he had for drinking loose leaf tea. I said, “Hmmmmm.” And when Alex put a loose leaf teapot on her Christmas list . . . well, I sat up and took notice.
After Christmas, I splurged on myself.
I bought this cute little teapot and cups. And after lots and lots of debating and searching and reading reviews, I finally chose some sample packs of loose leaf tea.
And quite by chance, it all arrived today . . . a welcome treat on an icy, rainy, windy day. On a day when I needed to huddle over my manuscript and fit back together the pieces of the plot puzzle I’d taken apart last week.
When my camp work was done, I unpacked it, put my loose tea leaves in the basket, poured the boiling water inside and stood back to let it steep.
It was then that my eyes fell on a couple of beautiful china tea cups which had been sitting on top of my fridge since David’s Uncle Donald had passed away a few years ago. Somehow, they’d ended up at my house after David had cleared out the remaining items in his. I believe they belonged to his sister, Peggo and perhaps even to her mother before that.
This one is so dainty. I love the deep bowl underneath. It has no handle . . .
and the inside is discolored from having held many, many servings.
This is another of my favorites. . .
mostly because of the little square chip opposite the handle which was so painstakingly glued back into place. Whoever this belonged to, they must have loved this particular cup very much to repair it.
I looked at the shiny, new, blue cups next to the teapot, then back at these two.
There was no contest.
With reverence, I chose the swan cup, although I promised the chipped cup I’d use it tomorrow night.
As I sipped my first steaming cup of creme tea, I tried to channel all the happy and sad conversations overheard by this cup, the quiet moments spent holding it, the decisions made while swirling its tea with a spoon.
Is it coincidence that I went on to not only solve a major dilemma in my storyline, but to make all my puzzle pieces fit and then finish my revisions?
I think not.