This poor tea. I got it in the mail today from my friend C, who is a very lovely and brilliant man, but with a fairly limited understanding of the reign of sheer violence and horror that is inter-European shipping. So like the nice, innocent Canadian he is, he put two David’s Tea (yes, I will refuse to type that out without an apostrophe forever and ever and shame on you for even going there) tins in a padded envelope and dropped it in the mail for me when he was in London.

And thus the journey of terror started for the two unsuspecting Canadian tea tins.

As most of you know, DT tins aren’t the most robust in the world, and if you pack them together, in a somewhat floppy, soft envelope and don’t tape the lids or put them into individual plastic bags, all bets are off. Upon arrival, the padded envelope (when gently rustled) sounded much like an oversized tea bag and smelled very strongly of buttered rum.

So I crossed my fingers so very tightly that the tiny swoosh-swoosh coming from the envelope was not, in fact, an oolong swoosh.

If true disaster had struck, I would have separated the little oolong pearls from the black blend, but I never would have known for sure how much they’d affected each other.

But when I cut the envelope open, the oolong tin was just sitting there, lid in place; pristine, sort of glowy.

Seriously, my whole day today has been one of blessings and dodged near-disasters. I went out to buy lettuce. At the store, I realize I switched jackets, so I left my card behind. But the cashier is super nice and stashes my stuff for me until I get back. I come outside, and it’s pouring down. But I get to share an umbrella with a nice lady while I wait for the tram (mine even arrives before hers) and she teaches me all about a couple of really good bus lines in the meantime. Back at the store, no less than SIX PEOPLE let me jump the line, even though I explain the cashier is holding stuff for me. As I get back out again, it’s pouring down even worse, but this time around I brought my umbrella, so I can offer to share it with a girl who’s getting soaked. Turns out she’s taking the same course I took at the university here a few years back, so I get the latest gossip on the irresistible and illustrious Professore P. Then, in the street, I meet a guy I’ve been meaning to e-mail forever and I can finally invite him to do that thing (no, not that thing – a serious, researchy thing) and he’s excited and then I get home and I have TWO packages waiting for me, both containing awesome teas and lots of love. Oh, and my fax to the Vatican went through.

This day could have been so much worse if it hadn’t been for the kindness of friends, complete strangers, and the resilience of one small, brave DT tin.

So, again – this poor tea – now lost in a very lengthy post about completely different things. Consider this a preliminary tasting note – a tasting prologue.

More will follow.

[Gifted by C, October 2013.]

Boiling, 4 min