Posts Tagged ‘Tea’

My first day in New Brunswick began with my dad’s homemade biscuits (at about 2am), but my first full day began at an hour (10:51am) that would more commonly be known to me as nearing lunch time … and it felt so good.

I felt almost giddy awakening in my parents home. The house was quiet, and walking through it (to the ONE bathroom in the house) I was experiencing des ja vous of my days growing up here. Days when I would be tiptoeing through the house to the bathroom, before anyone else would be awake.

I was remembering awakening here … the way the light came in through the windows, and the house smelled of … home, and all the creaking on the stairswere the same as I remembered.

After my morning ablutions, tea needed to be made. It always amazes me how I cannot make tea at our home near Vancouver, and in New Brunswick, coffee-making abilities allude me. Three cups of tea (with milk, not cream, and sugar) later, I was ready for my day.

But, when your day begins so close to noon, and jet lag is weighing heavily on you, it is a delight to just … do nothing (a foreign concept, that, due to my undiagnosed ADD, is only enjoyable for a limited amount of time). And so, we sat, my mom (pronounced mUm), dad and I, and we talked. And we watched the amazing hummingbirds enjoying my dad’s homemade sugary syrup from the feeders. There were up to eight hovering, vying for the next place setting at the feeders, at one time.

It was a day of simple pleasures …

waking at my parents home

making tea that actually tastes good

eating at their table

having a tour of my dads garden

having dinner at the most wonderful truck stop

texting my niece … making social plans

texting my girls

texting my hubby

checking expirary dates on foods (this will be a future blog)

A bit of negotiating went on too … negotiating that I not use certain goings on, and things said while I am here, in my next blog (I will, wisely wait until I am on the opposite side of the country, before using the vast amounts of material I am gathering 😉 ).

It has been a good, and full day (so my tummy says). Full of the things that I have been yearning for.

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Once you read this tale, you will be shocked to know that my grandmother is from Scotland … the land of tea (and shortbread … mmmmm, who could ever forget the shortbread … I wonder how long I would need to walk, to work off a good shortbread cookie?).

So my mother is my grandmother’s daughter, therefore, mom has about half of her life-giving blood donated by the nation of Scotland. Truly, good tea-making should be in her genetic code. But, it’s not!

Here is my mom’s (or is it mum’s) method of making tea …

First: One must use Red Rose Tea Bags

Next: Boil water, while, pouring out ‘yesterdays’ tea, rinsing the pot (must be Pyrex)

Next: Set pot on the wire ring, on the burner

Then: Place two Red Rose Tea bags into pot.

Then: When the water is boiled, pour into the pot.

Next: Turn burner to ‘low’ and allow to steep … for many, many minutes!

Finally: Enjoy

But, for my mom (of fine tea-making Scottish heritage), that is not the end of the story. No, MY mom doesn’t start the process all over again at lunch (or, as is said on the East Coast, ‘dinner’), and then at dinner (on the East Coast, known as ‘supper’). MY mom makes a full pot (just for herself, as dad is a strict milk-drinker) in the morning, and then re-heats, by re-boiling, the morning tea for lunch (dinner) and dinner (supper).


What self-respecting Canadian, of Scottish heritage, would make such a brew? (and what daughter, of said Canadian-Scottish heritage TELL of it?). Why it is just wrong, and in some countries, might even be viewed as criminal behavior.

All that said, some mornings (and only in the mornings, because I know of the dishpan quality of the tea as the day grows older), I so wish I could sit at her kitchen table (no one, in their right mind, on the East Coast would sit anywhere else for tea and a visit), and watch her go through her morning tea-making routine, and listen to her talk of all the people we know (what else do you talk about on the East Coast, besides other people … talk of the weather could cause people to sink in a hole as deep as those of us on the West Coast are wallowing in), and sit, in the same seats we have sat in since I can remember, and have our tea … together.

And when I am old (er … my body is already headed on the irreversible pathway), and my mom is gone, you know what I will remember, with fondness, every time I see a wire burner ring, or Red Rose Tea, or a Pyrex tea pot? I will remember my mom’s re-boiled tea, and the great memories I have of sitting in ‘our’ seats at the table in her kitchen, gossiping talking fondly ( 😉 ) about all those we know. Maybe re-boiled tea is not so bad.

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