Teatime Tale #33 — The Whisper

The Whisper

           People never know precisely where and when I’ll show up, and I work hard at keeping it that way. Sometimes I’m impulsive and make my first visit in July, but then again, I’m just as likely to show up in the dog days of August, or even early September, teasing my admirers with the promise of what will soon be there to stay.

            I’m a seasonal visitor to most places around the world, and I can only say that—and I hope this doesn’t sound too prideful—there are very few people who don’t eagerly await my arrival.

            It’s certainly nice to be loved, and why shouldn’t I be? I bring word that so many wonderful things are on the way. The wonderful things don’t appear on the exact day I arrive—for my visit is always just a fleeting one—but they do arrive not long afterward. Hayrides and apple festivals. College football games. Elementary school bake sales. Halloween and Thanksgiving. Late nights of stargazing around the fire pit.

            The atmosphere not only feels different once I’ve made my visit, it even smells different. Soon, like clockwork, everyone’s having Cranberry Autumn tea—a personal favorite—and hot apple cider. Bakers start turning out plump loaves of pumpkin bread and their best pecan pies. Barbecue smoke wafts over the backyard fence just in time to signal a last-minute invite luring the neighbors to supper. And, oh, the caramel popcorn and cotton candy at the county fair. That rich, delicious hot sugar smell alone is a feast for the senses. And those things can’t be found in January, April, or June. Only after I show up.

            What I absolutely adore is that shortly after my arrival, everyone begins to chill out—literally and figuratively. Cooler temperatures move in, and so does a more relaxed, less frenzied pace. Whatever a man or woman’s leisure pursuit, they enjoy it more once I’ve worked my magic. Gardeners, suddenly shed of summer’s heat, head back outside to play in the dirt again. Fishermen and fisherwomen know that lakes will be low but spirits high since the bass will be coming out of their summer slump.

            And I admit I have a soft spot for quilters. Yes, I know they ply their needles year-round, but after I give the go-ahead, they seem to go into overdrive. Inspired by the brilliant coloring of the trees, the quilters gather their honeyed golds, flaming reds, bright browns and opulent oranges in an effort to mimick what’s going on in nature outside their homes.

            Soon, they’ll be at their sewing machines and wooden embroidery hoops, diligently working on quilts in the Log Cabin, Baltimore Album, or Wedding Ring pattern. Perhaps even a few Maple Leaf quilts will come to life in their hands. I hear about their creations every single year, and every single year, I love to give the quilters—and the gardeners, and the fishermen and fisherwomen—encouragement to indulge in the leisure pursuits that bring them so much pleasure.

            Knowing how important a role I play, I do give a great deal of thought to the time of my arrival. It can’t be so soon that my message seems ridiculous, and it can’t be so late that they don’t have a few weeks’ fun of looking forward. The timing of my visit is critical, whether they realize it or not.

            Also, there’s the fact that I don’t—can’t, really—choose to show up everywhere on the same day. That would be tiring. Plus, even I can’t be in two different places at one time, even though some people mistakenly think I can.

            Then there are those who disregard my existence entirely and stubbornly insist on consulting their calendar to determine when I’ll show up. As if a piece of paper—or today, some silly electronic device—could possibly predict when I’ll be there. I still get a kick out of the folly of using a manmade tool to predict something so magical.

            So, I am often asked, where did you come from? People are forever intrigued by the mystery surrounding me. I was born thousands of years ago, created in a whoosh and a whirl. There’s not an easy way to explain it, but for those who ask, I simply say that my mother was the wind and my father was the air. That usually does the trick without revealing too much of my mystique.

            While I can’t be contained within the pages of a calendar, I can be found, and found easily, by those whose senses have been trained to find me. They see me in the flutter of the first fallen leaf, and they feel me in that quiet moment when the last of summer’s heat pauses, for just a single second, to permit a slight, oh-so-slight breeze.

            And then I politely disappear for just a little longer, because I am, of course, the whisper of fall.

The winner of the teatime tote and tea strainer is … Snap!

So Snap, if you'll send me your snail mail address via the e-mail button at right, I'll get these goodies headed your way. Congrats!

Some new teas for Parrotheads

Ingle's grocery store in Bremen has been the source of many fun new teas for me in recent years. My latest purchase? These two bottles of Jimmy Buffett's Island Tea. I mean, really, who doesn't love Jimmy Buffett, right?

I tried the Peach Mango Black Tea first and found it had a very tart peach taste. You know that extra bit of peachiness you taste when you each a part of the peach near the pit? That's what this tea reminded me of. It's sweetened with Stevia, which is not my favorite, so I suspect that provided the slight aftertaste that gave me pause. But in the interest of fairness to this tea, I probably would have loved it more if I hadn't just had that bottled peach tea from the Charleston Tea Plantation, which quickly became the standard by which I judge all others.

The surprise, however, and one I can't wait to buy again, was this Pineapple Coconut White Tea! Oh my goodness, was this stuff ever delicious! Did any of you grow up with those Dum Dum lollipops you could get at the grocery store, the ones that were sometimes given to kids at the bank drive-through window? I used to love those things (lollipops, not banks), and this tea tastes like a liquid version of the Coconut-Pineapple Dum Dum, which, sadly, is now discontinued. I like pineapple and coconut flavors but usually find coconut overpowers whatever it is paired with. Not this time, and I'll definitely be playing "Margaritaville" in my head as I go back to the store this weekend for more of this tea. The nutritional info reveals it's mostly water, sugar and juice with some white tea extract (and Stevia extract, which didn't bother me this time), but I don't care. I love the memories that surround this taste!

Free tea samples available from Chi Whole Leaf!

We interrupt today's regularly scheduled blog post to tell you about some tea samples that are available right now! Reader Loralie alerted me to this offer, and of course I immediately went online and ordered the *completely free* sample pack from Chi Whole Leaf. These are teas that are ground into a water-soluble powder, and the company notes, "Chi lets you drink the leaves, rather than the water that has passed through them." Interesting!

I got an email from the company saying to please help spread the word about the free samples by sharing this link, so that's what I've done!

A most sentimental gift of teacups

Last week, some of you read the column I wrote for The Coweta Shopper on collecting teacups. I always assume most of my readers are women, and although I know I have at least one male reader in my husband, I learned I had at least one other male reader, a thoughtful man named Francis in my Sunday School class. We met up with him just as we were heading into class last Sunday, and Francis looked at me with a bag in his hands and said oh good, I have a gift for you. I thought he was joking, but inside were two teacups and saucers along with one of the most touching notes I think I've ever received.

"Angela, After reading your column on 'Tea Cups,' I thought you would enjoy these; they were my Mother's. They are a lot like life, a little chipped, quite fragile, and a need to be held. Enjoy, Francis." Can you even imagine how much I loved this? Yes, I'll bet you can!

The kindness of this gift is so touching, but knowing these teacups belonged to Francis's mother makes me even more honored to have received them. And aren't they beautiful! (The chips, by the way, aren't even visible unless you look on the back side of the teacups, which I don't plan to do. These are quite usable teacups!)

Roses, ribbons, garlands … all things I just love!

The backstamp says "Union" and "Made in Czecho-Slovakia," and I read online that this company produced its wares from 1921-1939. It's nice to know a little history about these lovely teacups, but the history about them I love best is sitting a few seats over from me in Sunday School each week!

Pocky's Green Tea Cream Covered Biscuit Sticks

When I was at World Market over the weekend, I discovered at the back of the store a display that contained several green tea treats. They had green tea Kit Kat candy bars, which I've tried before and enjoyed; a green tea jellied-looking treat, which made nervous; and these "Pocky" brand treats. The whole box is 340 calories and is considered a single serving, but that's nuts. I've been eating a few at a time. I'm also thinking these would be cute accents for something, but what? Matcha ice cream?

I like matcha okay but just okay, and to my surprise, I absolutely loved these biscuit sticks! The matcha flavor is there, yes, but it's light and not bitter, quite complementary to the crunch of the biscuit sticks. I actually considered buying an extra box of these for the giveaway this month, but the box said to keep these out of the sun, so mailing such a package from Georgia in August would probably not be a good idea. Have any of you tried these treats? Count me a fan!

August giveaway: A teatime tote bag and tea strainer!

It makes me nervous when I can't find a good giveaway prize by the middle of the month, but happily, a trip to World Market on Saturday solved that! First, I found this super cute tote bag, so I bought one for me and one for one of you! Yes, it's plastic, but it's nice thick plastic, if that makes sense. This is one of those sturdy, squarish-bottomed bags that should be a nice tote bag if you happen to need to transport tablecloths and linens, silverware, etc.

Here's a detail of the tote bag. It has an Asian flair and also some pretty floral graphics.

The winner also gets this teapot-shaped tea strainer! Now wouldn't you enjoy your tea even more after straining it through something so cute? If you would like to be entered in this giveaway, just leave a comment by 7 a.m. EST Friday, August 14, and you'll be entered. (U.S. and Canada only, please.) Good luck!

Teatime Tale #32 — First Day of School

First Day of School

            “Mommy, when Sissy be home?”

            Braden, my three-year-old, seemed to miss his big sister as much as I did. I found it hard to believe it was the first day of first grade for my oldest child.

            It seemed like only yesterday that Dan and I were wondering why I hadn’t gotten pregnant after nearly two years of marriage. Fertility testing indicated nothing was preventing us from getting pregnant, we just didn’t.

            Then, a few months later, I found out I was indeed expecting, and before we knew it, our sweet Abigail was coming home with us in that pretty pink blanket that Dan’s mother knitted.

            I remember the Minnie Mouse party we had for Abigail’s first birthday, and the My Little Pony party when she turned two. She was into Yo Gabba Gabba at three, and we celebrated her fourth birthday while on a family vacation to Disney World. There was that trip out west to see the grandparents and go horseback riding when she turned five. It all seemed just days ago. Where had the time gone?

            “Can I have a popsicle?”

            Braden’s request jerked me back to reality. I reached into the freezer and wondered if Abigail had had lunch yet. It was almost noon, but some of the moms I knew had told me horror stories of their kids eating lunch as early as nine thirty in the morning. What if Abigail was hungry? What if I’d given her too much juice for breakfast and she had to go to the bathroom and couldn’t make it in time? Those kinds of things happened, I knew.

            Gwen down the street got called to the office on the first day of school last year when her Emily had an accident. I wasn’t sure who was more embarrassed, mother or daughter, but I worried about something like that happening to Abigail.

            I looked at my cell phone but no, there were no messages. And it was fully charged, so I was ready for a call if one came.

            I’d already finished my first cup of tea that morning but suddenly realized my teacup was missing. Had I taken it into the living room? I checked, but there was no sign of it.

            Maybe it was in the laundry room where I’d gone to double-check my calendar of PTA meetings that hung there. No. My cup wasn’t in there either. Odd. But then everything about that day had felt slightly odd.

            I knew I wasn’t the first mom to send her child off to school and I wouldn’t be the last, but no one had warned me how hard it would be. After caring for my child’s every need for almost six years, I suddenly was entrusting her safety to someone else?

            Thank goodness there was a prayer group at church for first-day-of-school moms. I was so grateful when I got a text from Wendy, whose kids are in middle school this year. It said, “Praying 4 U 2Day!” I sure hoped Wendy kept it up.

            And I sure hoped Abigail was having a good day. I had been determined to make her first day of school special, so Dan and I had surprised her by placing a small vase of yellow flowers on her nightstand soon after we got up, making sure it was the first thing she would see when her Hello Kitty alarm clock went off.

            The funny thing was that Abigail seemed much less worried about the first day of school than I was. When I walked her into her classroom and left her there, I found myself tearing up, but she was fine. “Bye, Mommy,” she said, giving me a peck on the cheek and heading in to get a sticker from Miss Lauren, her teacher.

            “She’ll be fine,” Miss Lauren had told me. “I promise.”

            Miss Lauren looked as though she had just graduated two weeks ago, but she seemed smart, sweet, and cheerful, which was pretty much all I wanted in my child’s teacher. I wondered if Miss Lauren would think Abigail was gifted.

            As I pondered all that, I reached for the teacup that I usually kept next to my seat on the sectional in the living room, but it wasn’t there. What had I done with that teacup?

            Suddenly aware that I hadn’t heard Braden in a while, I passed through the living room and headed down the hall to his room. No Braden.

            I checked in my and Dan’s room. Nothing.

            It dawned on me to look in Abigail’s room. Braden was sitting on the floor in front of her nightstand, and he held up his chubby little hands and shoved my missing teacup before me.

            “For you, Mommy. Frow-ers,” he said.

            Oh no.

            He had stripped down Abigail’s beautiful first-day-of-school bouquet and plopped the tattered little yellow flowers into my teacup.

            “Oh, wow,” I said, trying to recover as gracefully as I could. “You made this just for me?”

            “Uh-huh,” he said, a proud smile on his face.

            What could I do?

            “Thank you, sweetheart,” I said, scooping him up into a big hug. “I love it. And most of all, I love you!”

            There would be other flowers. In fact, I would run by the grocery store on the way to pick up Abigail and get a replacement bouquet. If I knew my child, she would be so eager to tell me about everything that had happened at school, she wouldn’t even think to look at those flowers for hours—if then.

            After all, just a few short years and I would be sitting at home one day wondering how Braden’s first day of school was going.

            Meanwhile, it was time to find another teacup and have that second cup of tea.

Yeo's Chrysanthemum Tea Drink

I guess this was my week for trying new ready-to-drink teas, because I was at the grocery store and looking for the coconut milk when I spotted next to it this can of Yeo's Chrysanthemum Tea for 89 cents. Chrysanthemum tea? Naturally, I had to try it.

When I got home, I was at first confused because I couldn't read the words on the can and didn't see the word "tea" anywhere. Had I bought the wrong beverage? No. I just had the can turned around!

Like other herbal "teas," this one contains no camellia sinensis. When I tasted it, this tea reminded me of a sweetened and iced version of chamomile tea. When I looked online, I found that chrysanthemum and chamomile are in the same plant family, asteraceae. This "tea" was an interesting (and cheap) experiment, but I didn't just love it and don't think I'll be trying it again when I can cold-brew some even tastier teas to get me through the summer! If you're intrigued by the idea of this tea, however, you may want to check out the Yeo's website, which lists some of the features of this drink. And I'd love to hear if any of you have tried (or are fans of) chrysanthemum tea!

August's teatime column is up at The Coweta Shopper!

Since some of you said you would like to be notified when my column appears in The Coweta Shopper, I thought I would post it and the link here after it comes out on the first Wednesday of each month!

So if you don't live in Coweta County but would like to read about collecting teacups, just click here. And thanks so much for reading yet more of my tea ramblings!

The story of some controversial White House china

C-SPAN has been airing a series about the First Ladies, and I tuned in one night just in time to learn about Lucy Hayes, wife of President Rutherford B. Hayes. All the First Ladies are fascinating subjects, and I was not surprised to learn some new things about Lucy Hayes. She was supportive of veterans and the temperance movement, and as First Lady she oversaw the completion of the Washington Monument. She was also the first First Lady to graduate from college and the first to host a White House Easter Egg Roll. But I must confess that what most fascinated me about Lucy Hayes was the fact she is known for her controversial White House china!

According to Christie Weininger, executive director of the Rutherford B. Hayes Presidential Center in Ohio, “It’s controversial. It was controversial at the time. It remains controversial to this day because of the pattern of the china.” Lucy Hayes loved nature, Weininger said, and she wanted to choose a china pattern with ferns on it. Theodore Davis had been chosen as the artist, and he suggested the china also depict fish, ducks, and other subjects—subjects, it turned out, which weren't considered appropriate for formal china of the day. The First Lady, however, thought the china would be a fine way to familiarize visiting dignitaries with the floral and fauna of the U.S. Apparently, her china selection created quite the ruckus!

Fortunately, that clip from the program is available for viewing online, and if you would like to watch the brief video and see the china for yourself, click here!

RTD teas from the Charleston Tea Plantation

What a nice surprise to visit an Ingles grocery store over the weekend and find these ready-to-drink (or RTD) bottled teas from the Charleston Tea Plantation!

Because of my interest in U.S. tea history, I especially loved seeing "MADE WITH TEA GROWN IN THE U.S.A." on the label!

They have a nice selection of these teas, and I got the All Natural Peach Tea and …

The All Natural Lemon Tea.

I love that this tea is made with "South Carolina Grown Black Tea." This peach flavor is some of the best bottled peach tea I've ever had. I'm pretty open to peach-flavored anything, but this tea had the perfect marriage of black tea and peach flavor in a lightly sweet tea. I'm betting even the tea purists who rarely drink bottled teas will like this tea!

Similarly, the lemon tea was not too sweet and not too tart, and it didn't have that strong fake lemon flavor that I usually find in bottled lemon-flavored teas. In fact, the only reason I tried the lemon flavor this time was that I trust Bigelow and the Charleston Tea Plantation! Have any of you tried these teas? I'm definitely a fan, and now I'll be going back soon to try the other flavors of Charleston Tea Plantation bottled teas!

A peek into the potteries!

I have met some of the loveliest people through this shared love of teatime, and one of them is Frances Lamparter of California. Recently, Frances and her husband, Jeff, made a trip to England, and since she was going to the potteries at Stoke-on-Trent, she asked if there was anything in particular I wanted her to pick up for me there. Isn’t that generous? I told Frances that what I would most love for her to bring back for me was photos! I’ve been dying to know exactly what the potteries are like these days and whether they’re worth a visit. When she returned home, Frances mailed me some lovely brochures about the potteries, and I’m quite delighted to have them for my tea files!

Frances and Jeff also took the time to e-mail me some of Jeff's wonderful images from their tour of the potteries, and they have very kindly allowed me to share them here! I'm so grateful she was quite honest in telling me that what they actually found in the potteries were empty factories, since the manufacturing of the bone china has moved to China or elsewhere! So they saw factory outlets with inventory from China (a disappointment for her as it would have been for me), and some factory museums. The new Wedgwood visitors center and museum was supposed to open in April, but Frances reported it wasn’t yet open when they were there in May. Stoke-on-Trent remains on my "bucket list" of places to visit in England, and I'm so grateful to have Frances's first-hand report (and Jeff's photos!) so I'll know exactly what to expect. Above is a photo of the Aynsley Mill, and below are another photo of that site as well as the Portmeirion Factory Shop, quite a few photos from the factory of the still-locally-manufactured Emma Bridgewater (including some unfinished pieces, which I always love seeing), and the Royal Doulton and Royal Stafford outlets. I'm so grateful to Frances for serving as our eyes and ears at the potteries—until we all can go check them out for ourselves!

(Note: Be sure to notice the Emma Bridgewater tea caddy at top left that says "Yorkshire Tea" and, next to it, on top, the "Earl Grey Only" mug! I love that idea!)

Teatime Tale #31 — Planning for the St. Margaret's Episcopal Church Ladies Guild Fall Tea

Planning for the St. Margaret's Episcopal Church Ladies Guild Fall Tea

            “Brenda, why don’t you sit down and have some tea sandwiches while you’re here?”

            “No thanks, Mary Lou. I have such a tiny little appetite, and if I eat those, I won’t be hungry when Cliff takes me to dinner tonight.”

            “Come on,” she says, pushing the plate of tea sandwiches and a small glass bowl of cheese spread toward me. “Just one so I won’t feel bad.”

            “All right. I’ll take just one,” I say. Mary Lou is known for her pimiento cheese, and the way she slices her sandwiches ribbon-style is just precious, which is one reason I asked her to join the Tea Society where I’m the president.

            But I’m not here to eat. I’m here to tell her about the St. Margaret’s Episcopal Church Ladies Guild Fall Tea.

            “I still don’t understand what the Methodists did that made you mad at their Mother’s Day Tea,” Mary Lou says.

            She’s one of my dearest friends, but Lord, that woman can frustrate me. I’m so frazzled, I reach for a second pimiento cheese tea sandwich.

            “They didn’t make me mad,” I say, taking a bite of sandwich just so she can see how completely fine I am with everything. “I just realized they were looking for a newcomer to head up their refreshment committee, and you and I both know I’m way overqualified for that.”

            “Tell me again what happened at the tea?”

            I sigh. “I did practically everything for that tea, including all the sandwiches, and most of those women didn’t lift a finger to help. But you know me, I don’t ever say anything. Now Kathy Brown helped, bless her heart, but that woman is a saint. I still can’t believe she got there at six a.m. just so we’d all have hot scones at teatime.”

            Mary Lou has supposedly had lunch already, but she opens a big bag of Fritos while I eat one more pimiento cheese tea sandwich. I thought she had signed up for Weight Watchers, but those classes don’t appear to be doing her any good.

            Mary Lou still doesn’t seem to understand the seriousness of what happened at the Mother’s Day Tea.

            “So the tea went fine?” she asks. Mary Lou was supposed to come but had some kind of family emergency that day. I never did hear any more about that.

            “Yes, but after the tea, the pastor’s wife didn’t even stay and help clean up,” I say.

            “Pastors' wives aren’t janitors, Brenda. Why on earth should she clean up?”

            I stick out my tongue at Mary Lou, who is being so ornery today.

            “Go on with your story,” she says. “So what else made you mad at the Methodists?”

            “Nothing made me mad, it just hurt my feelings.”

            “What hurt your feelings, then?”

            “When it was time to leave, most of the women told me what a good job I’d done, but the leader of their women’s ministry just asked me if I wanted to go on the mission trip to Costa Rica next spring. Can you believe that?”

            “What? You don’t like missions?”

            I roll my eyes and reach for a fork so I can eat that pimiento cheese spread.

            “Of course I do, but she didn’t even thank me for anything. Don’t you think she should have? I couldn’t believe it. So when Erica Gillingham at St. Margaret’s asked if I would be one of the lifestyle experts at their fall tea—”

            “Lifestyle expert?” roars Mary Lou, nearly choking on a Frito. “When did you become a ‘lifestyle expert’?”

            Mary Lou is going to have to start keeping up with the movers and shakers in this town if she plans on us remaining friends. “You know how often I’m asked to speak about my role as president of the Tea Society. Don’t you think that qualifies?”

            “I guess,” Mary Lou says, taking a swig of her sweet tea. “Sounds like you’ll enjoy it.” Mary Lou drinks out of plastic glasses, not that there’s anything wrong with that.

            “Anyway,” I say, “the point is that the Episcopal ladies want me on the program, I don’t have to prepare food, and”—I pause to give Mary Lou the full effect—“I even get an honorarium. These ladies know how to treat a professional.”

            “Uh-huh,” Mary Lou says, suddenly fishing around in the bottom of the Fritos bag.

            “So how are things with the Baptists?” I ask, just to change the subject. I don’t want Mary Lou to think I’m too good to keep up with my old church.

            “Fine,” she says. “The fall Bible studies are gearing up, and Starla Mooneyham’s going to lead a study of the book of Esther.”

            “Starla is going to teach? That’s certainly different,” I say. What I’m thinking is, I can’t believe Starla Mooneyham is still head of the ladies ministry there. And I still can’t believe she turned down my Waldorf Chicken Salad for the spring tea.

            “You’re not still mad at her for not choosing your chicken salad sandwiches for the spring tea, are you?”

            “That was actually Waldorf Chicken Salad on Mini Croissants, but no, I was not then and am not now mad about it.”

            “Okeydokey,” says Mary Lou, folding up her Fritos bag. “So when’s this shindig at St. Margaret’s?”

             “September fifth. And I’ve been asked to display some of my teawares and need you to help me set everything up. Will you?”

            “You know I will. That’s all this visit was about?”

            “Yes. Why?”

            Mary Lou shrugs, and I tell her I need to get going.

            Slipping my purse over my shoulder, I say, “Trust me, Mary Lou. These Episcopal ladies are going to have the nicest tea this town has ever seen.”

            “Can’t wait,” Mary Lou says, but she’s rummaging through her cabinets and soon pulls out a box of Little Debbie Swiss Rolls.

            “Bye, Mary Lou.”

            “Bye, Brenda.”

            I can’t wait for September. Besides, it’s so nice to have finally found a church home.