This is a continuation of another piece on my main site. For that entry, go HERE. You don’t have to, this entry stands well on its own, but for added revelation, give it a looksy. Thankee.


I finished the last of my African Grey

My mother was in town. My brother/roommate and his girlfriend were also over. We had just finished watching an episode of Downton Abbey. It was my first time catching an episode; I was hooked. Fascinatingly proper for what amounted to a British soap opera.

My mother exclaimed, “We forgot to brew tea!”

I attempted to rectify this by brewing an “H-Earlbal Grey”, a rooibos/bergamot blend I rather liked from The Jasmine Pearl. Alas, I didn’t have enough for a full pot of the stuff, so I sprinkled in some Joy’s Teaspoon Lemon Zest to round it out.

In a word, perfect.

I finished the last of my Keemun Hao Ya…

The work week was rough. We were busier than was expected for a January. Everybody was running on fumes. Sales blitzes, packed house, lots to do. And, for part of it, I was in charge of my department. For two of those days, I brewed a pot of TeaVivre Keemun Hao Ya to keep me alert that morning. The tea turned out note-perfect. Not too bitter, not too astringent. Perfectly smoky-sweet.

In those two days, I got Employee of the Month.

I don’t think the two occurrences were mutually exclusive.

I finished the last of my Georgian black tea…

One particularly difficult morning, I needed some extra wake-up juice. So, I used the last vestiges of my Georgian and overbrewed the heck out of it. The liquor brewed to a perfect red. It never brewed red.

That day, I was on top of all the tasks I needed to accomplish.

I brewed the last of my Yunnan Silver Needle

Again with The Jasmine Pearl.

It was a particularly melancholy day. Work had been a little rough when it should’ve been easy. I had come to a few revelations about myself – some that were uncomfortable. I brewed a pot of Yunnan Silver Needle to feel better, and shared some with my bro/roommate and his girl. It hit he spot

Later that night, I went to a bar/deli by myself. I went their often. Perhaps too often. Once a week or so. That’s what I get for having a crush on a bartender. Somehow, someway, I determined that would be my last night there – my last night seeing her.

I accomplished absolutely nothing. Yet it felt right.

Artist: Shane Semler

Artist: Shane Semler

As I write this, I’m finishing the last of some Formosa Oolong

I’ve had this stuff from TeaFrog for the better part of a year. A cruel year, to say the least. Fitting, considering a song called “Cruelest Year” is playing in the background on my YouTube “Writing Mood” playlist.

The day before, I attended one of Michael “TeaGeek” Coffey’s Tea Salons via Google+ Hangout to discuss Keemun Hao Ya. Of course, I didn’t have any on hand, since I finished the last of mine earlier in the week. But I remembered that majestic pot clearly enough to contribute – in my own non sequitur way – to the conversation.

It was a splendid time, full of laughs and ribaldry. A very animated discussion. I also thought to myself, This is right.

Amidst this week of cupping epilogues and some other sobering realities, tea and tea people were still my one source of positive perspective. I also came to a rather important decision – to hunker down and save money to finally meet many of them.

In four months’ time – if stars and finances align – I will be in Las Vegas for World Tea Expo. What’s weirder is that I have to be there. As part of a panel. Yes! I’m a panelist!

To make this happen, I have to make some changes in my own life. Rampant spending must be curbed, debt must be managed, activities need to be slowed. But at least a goal is in sight.

For every ending, there’s a beginning. For every tea finished, another pot is poured.

Artist: Christoph Andre

Artist: Christoph Andre