The Quaint and Necessary Practice of Afternoon Tea

 Despite rhapsodizing over coffee more than once, lately I have found myself eschewing the bitter brew and choosing tea instead.

I will generally begin my day with a cup of coffee, decaf or regular, whatever is on hand. Honestly, after first waking up in the morning, I don't notice the taste of coffee unless it's weak, and more than an initial caffeine dose, I need the initial warmth. After my general morning housework, I've taken to having a cup of tea or five and reading a book before I head off to work for the day. The idea and process of taking tea is very soothing. It provides a haven in the middle of the day for me, a chance to savor one last moment in the sanctuary of home, a bracing of self before subsuming to the rigors of working life.

Your working girl does not exactly have the kind of temperament well-suited to being a working girl at all.

My work has good quality English Breakfast, Darjeeling, and other lovely black teas, but at sixteen dollars for a single package of it, my reaction was a firm, "No to that." Instead, I bought a box of PG Tips. PG Tips is a black tea with an amazing taste, quick brew time, and I was able to get a good six cups out of one tea bag. True tea aficionados might know of better teas, but in rural United States, PG Tips is the best you are likely to get. It stands up well to milk and sugar, and the first cup is a lovely reddish color. Fixing the tea is a pleasure in itself, a ritual per cup. Afternoon Tea Total (a new blog I have discovered; always a fun thing) says in one post, "Coffee often seems to be a tool to keep going, work harder, move faster whereas tea (certainly for me) is about taking a few minutes out of your day to relax." Nothing could be more true. A simple cup of coffee or latte can sometimes be used as a tool for relaxation, but more often the person ordering it is impatient, eager to get on with their day, chug their drug, and use it to get up and go. Most people use it as a tool; college students will file in a weekend nights to shoot straight espresso in preparation for hours of bar hopping. Business men will shuffle in mid-afternoon for their daily cappuccino, dry, leaving with a steaming cup in their hands which weighs virtually nothing. Rare indeed is the quirky college girl who settles in with her books and a latte, staring dreamily out the window in between sips.

There is something unfortunate about being well and truly happy at home, though. Especially for a working girl. Somehow it draws such a sharp contrast to life at work, making drudgery seem more so, and unpleasant people seem even more unnecessary than usual. Oh well. My barista life is not eternal, or so it's to be hoped, and it's spring. Dreams come true in spring-- it's a scientific fact.