I’m writing this post over a nice cup of tea. It’s Tuesday afternoon. About four o’clock, when I like to have a cuppa, most days. My cup of tea is resting on top of a birthday card for my wife, sent from England. It’s got a King Charles stamp on the envelope and a postmark about the coronation. Nice.
I grew up in England, where we like to drink this stuff. There is an awful lot in a cup of tea. So much so that I’ll spare you a lengthy meditation. As a New Yorker, now, what I do notice is this: Taking 15 minutes in the afternoon to take quiet stock of the day pays off. This is a city where, as Sting pointed out, the drink of choice is coffee. Everybody moves at a hundred miles an hour. You want to go, go, go. Keep moving.
So, stop. Drink a cup of tea and reflect a bit. That’s what your tech bros call “disruption.” Have a nice cookie with it. Sorry. Biscuit. Have a nice biscuit with it. Perfect.
Everybody has strong feelings about how to make it. Here is my method. I like to use PG tips Pyramid teabags. I buy them at Myers of Keswick, the British food store on Hudson Street. I put the bag into a cup. I boil water to 205 degrees farenheit. I pour the water over the bag. I let the bag steep for 30 seconds. I smoosh the teabag on the side of the cup with a teaspoon for about a second. Then I take the bag out and throw it away. Then I add a splash of milk. I don’t do sugar, but some people do, and that’s up to them. I don’t use a teapot. Some people do. And it’s up to them. I use a chipped cup. It’s familiar to me. Not fancy. Then I drink it.
There aren’t many situations in life that a cup of tea won’t make better. When you think about the hardest things you’ve been through, ask yourself if I could be right. I hope I’m right. And if there are things you’re going through that are hard, right now, then I wish you a good cuppa. At the very least.
Thanks for reading, as always.
