DAY FOUR: A STRONG CUP OF TEA
I’m just in from college so this post is short and sweet. The opposite of how I like my tea. I like it long (brewed forever ’til it looks like tar) with not a touch of sugar. Finally finishing off the preparation with a miniscule amount of semi-skimmed milk. A pipette, if you will. This is merely for visual appeal as you can’t actually taste the milk. My tea is what you call “a builders tea”. Because of my gravitation towards this strong tea family, no weak contenders will do. No, no, not at all. This is when the usually brand shy me insists on the best. Yorkshire tea it must be. In a big builders mug of course. None of this fine bone china shenanigans for me. I admit to trying others. I’ll sometimes go to bed with ones that promise to be the things that dreams are made of. They never are. I’m sorry.
Cheers to you strong tea! You’ve picked me up in the morning; given me much needed respite in the office (tea making is a good skiving opportunity); broken the ice with awkward visitors; soothed an aching heart and been a constant in a sometimes choppy changey (I know it’s not a word) life. Despite your strong image, you would never make me do something I later regretted (like the demon drink). You’re a gentle friend to me and I love you with a chocolate biscuit. Thanks 🙂