Took a side trip to the Grand Canyon on my way out to the kitchen
to drink that pot of tea.

I've been told that the best way to make a long story short is
not to tell it in the first place. Seems I've passed that point
already, but I'll try to keep the rest of the story short.

The woman I visited all those years ago took a tin of tea from
one of the dresser drawers and spooned long wiry leaves into a
thin-walled cobalt-and-gold teapot. She added boiling water and
let the tea steep for about six minutes. The she poured the tea
into tall glasses, added big dollops of cherry jam and handed one
of the glasses to me. It was the first whole leaf tea I'd ever
had and was what started me down the path toward my tea
addiction. She called it caravan tea, so I'm guessing it was a
Russian caravan blend. It was so full of exotic (to me at the
time) flavors and wonderful aroma.

I've had all kinds of teas since then, including several
different Russian Caravan blends, but I've never been able to
duplicate the flavors of that first real tea.

Despite youthful forays into the underworld of soft drinks and
going the herbal tisane route during my hippy years, I've never
gotten over my love of teas...nor do I wish to, either.

(c)2003 Martha McLemore