*Artwork “Caffeine” by Carol Rizzo
I don’t drink tea very often. I prefer the taste of other beverages. Even if I liked tea more, I rarely have the mental energy for it. There are too many decisions.
How long to steep?
Re-use the teabag or throw it away?
What to add: Milk, honey, lemon?
What flavor?
My mother used to save her used tea bags in a small glass cup. I don’t think that she ever used one twice. Having grown up during the Great Depression, the thought of throwing the bag away after only one use was probably disturbing to her—much too extravagant. I watched the saved tea bags dry, shrink, curl, turn brown, and stick to the bottom of the cup—a monument to good intentions.
When I do drink tea, I usually choose Chamomile and add honey. Honey comes in many varieties. I like it somewhat unrefined—cloudy, not clear, with some particles, hints of the beehive still present. It soothes my throat and I feel connected with nature.
I think of my mother when I remove the teabag from the teacup. I wind the attached white string around the bag and spoon, and pull the string tightly in order not to waste any of the residual tea inside. I carefully put the tea bag in the glass cup that most closely resembles the one that my mother used to use. I won’t use the bag again, but I won’t waste it. I will watch it dry, shrink, curl, turn brown, and stick to the bottom.