True Love:
I’m always so pleased when I find a piece of literature that covers so much, so eloquently, with so few words. Something that works on a literal level as well as others. Hat tip and “let me introduce you to my redneck friends,” TFG (Scott).
And my original comment? Back to were I was before? Ice tea, the way the good lord intended it? In a large glass, brown liquid, unsweet, a hot day in Texas? Takes about three glasses of that tea. Jars. Buckets. Whatever, but to me, it’s a glass of ice tea, although the over-sized tumbler is made of plastic.
When I was at Holy Tea, in England, one of the afternoons, I had a special pressing of tea, Chinese Snow White, Golden Needles, or some such high-blown names. I reveled in the tea’s fine flavor, though, reminded me, more than anything else, of tea in BBQ place in on the South Side.
Omnia explorate, Meliore retinete:
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There’s something about High Holy Tea that is so much more than properly prepared tea leaves. It’s the tiny edibles and the whole ambiance. The connection with Teas past and around the world in hot climes and cold rainy ones. Some served on doilies, some served by over-uniformed, gloved servitors. Some with friends, some with strangers, some alone. No matter the crisis, the Tea will be served.