Still around…juggling a million plates; with so many in motion there hasn’t been one to balance a teacup on for weeks and weeks.

But when I finally did on Mother’s Day, there was a cup of this on it. It’s fine freshly steeped. Plenty peachy, but I’m less impressed with the honey flavor. (Tasted like it came from a bee in a bad mood—more like honeycomb than honey itself.) Cold brewed in the fridge, not so much—it turned bitter. Moral of the story: sit down, drink it fresh, take your time.

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Somebody asked me once when I became a tea junkie; I think it dates back to college when I needed caffeine for a 7 a.m. class but chose not to do coffee. My favorite teapot is a medium-sized Brown Betty given to me by my Mema; the painted flowers are chipping off, but the size and feel is perfect. I rejoice when I get a morning to brew a pot of loose tea starting with a kettle; not a bag and a hot pot.

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Southwest Missouri

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