I adore it.
Every morning I wake up with the babe, we head downstairs and I put my lovely white kettle on the stove. I've never been one for electric kettles, and the fact that we have a gas stove, and I get to see those lovely flames licking at the enamel, just sweetens the deal.
And speaking of sweetness, I usually add just a little sugar, or a dollop of honey to my tea. Or sometimes nothing at all. Or sometimes almond milk, or 2%, or goat's milk. I like to mix it up a little, pardon my pun.
In my tea, coffee & spice cupboard there's an incredible variety of loose and bagged teas. I prefer the loose leaf, but, as my mother would say, beggars can't be choosers, and so I won't shun the bags at all. There are a few English Breakfast teas that are still quite nice in their little pouches.
This chartreuse beauty is my most favourite teapot that I've ever owned. I can't say enough wonderful things about it -- no drips or drops, no spills. It's wonderful.
The whole ritual of tea makes me feel blessed. Sharing tea time with my friends and family is one of my greatest pleasures. I have already started to pass this tradition down to Gretchen. She asks for tea and I brew her up a little peppermint, or chamomile and we sit together on the couch and sip from our respective cups. It feels like love. It feels heavenly.
So yes, ladies and gents. I could never, ever tire of tea.
