I am singular in my family, in that I do not like coffee. Not just the taste; I can't even stand the smell. My husband laughs at me because every time he opens a new container of coffee, he can count on me coming into the kitchen to ask what is burning. Really. It's weird, but that's how my nose and brain always interpret it.
And I am surrounded by coffee snobs.
My husband is totally okay with nearly any brand of coffee, but my children refuse to drink anything that is not a superior coffee. Don't even ask me what that means, I have no clue.
So here I am, me, myself and I, an avid tea drinker. Hot, iced, black, green, white, herbal, I love it all. I simply cannot enter a grocery store without at some point walking down the tea aisle to see if there is anything new. God help me if there is, because I will buy it. I'm like a kid in a candy store.
I don't know when I began collecting tea mugs. Dainty cups and saucers are all well and good (and I have a few of those!), but a good sturdy mug tends to hold more. Maybe that's why I prefer them. I see mugs in a shop, I head straight for them. But not just any will do. They have to speak to me. I'm sad if one breaks, because I'm certain I won't be able to replace it, easily or at all. I have taken to gluing those sad, injured mugs back together and using them to hold utensils or pens or something.
The obsession with all things tea does not end with my large variety of teas or mugs. It has extended now to teapots and other tea accoutrements. I have a teapot clock, a teapot lamp and my sister found adorable boxes decorated with teapots and cups and saucers. These boxes hold my selection of tea scented candles and tarts. (I am still very sad that Yankee Candle stopped making their tea scented candles!). I even have picture frames with teapots on them.
I finally designated my dining room as my tea room. It contains all of my tea related collections. It is a work in progress.
Anyway, my fascination with tea has not escaped the notice of my friend, Susan. She has been gently pushing me to start a blog about tea. I had thus far managed to skip and dance merrily around her ministrations, until last week. It was my birthday, and a package arrived in the mail for me. Upon opening it I laughed giddily at the mug inside. After unwrapping it, inside at the bottom of the mug she had taped a handwritten note. Two words. Mug blog (her term for her not so subtle subliminal messages). So, I am dedicating this blog to you, Susan. Susan believes I have a year's worth of mugs. I'm pretty sure I don't, but I'm also not so sure I want to test that theory. My husband teases I have a lifetime supply of tea. Also not sure I want to test that theory.
But I do love tea and I want to share my love of tea, even if no one but Susan ever reads my blog. To start things off, this is the mug Susan sent me:
I don't even know if she realizes how absolutely perfect it is. The word *peace* has been my mantra for awhile now. I try to keep it, I try to be it. Having a visual helps. I even created a small peace altar in my home.
The tea in this mug right now is Zen. A green tea blended with lemon verbena, spearmint, lemongrass and more. I can't think of a better way to start off my day. Zen tea in a peace mug. The weather outside is warm, but it is cool in my air conditioned home sitting in front of an oscillating fan. (I live in the south; don't judge me!) I get to sip a delightful tea in my new mug and cross stitch. The piece is a wizard with fluffy bunny slippers. He amuses me.
Sydney Smith, in A Memoir of the Reverend Sydney Smith said it best, “Thank God for tea! What would the world do without tea! How did it exist? I am glad I was not born before tea.”