No, it’s tea!
If you were to ask those that new me what things would mean the most to me I’d be surprised if there was a person who had met me who did not mention tea. It has come to define much of my character, introduced to me fundamentally by my maternal grandmother, a formidable Irish matriarch (there are a few in my family!) I have it usually in the style favoured by us Paddys. Strong enough to tar the road or to stand the spoon up in the cup. I have pint mugs for my brew. At home (several), at work and at the houses of two friends where I am on occasion to be found.
This however is green tea and quite a posh one for me. I decided that drinking black tea too late was perhaps not helping my interfered sleep (you may think this might be obvious but I’ve drunk tea all day for 30 years and rarely have I had long-lasting sleep deprivation, so I am doing this purely for precautionary measures). I put a spoonful of leaves in and infused it. What I got was a forest in a cup! I was not quite sure what to do with it all it filled the whole cup even when I had drained the liquid.
So I ate it.
Turns out I like that part of tea as well.
raytsbaron 