drank Bolder Breakfast by The Tea Spot
1737 tasting notes

Tazo purrs like a Tribble. We let him in for breakfast because it is a nippy 48 outside and he (Who am I kidding? He spells I) was cold.

So we (that’s us, not the royal we) are enjoying this sweet, stout, rich, chocolately cup with a little swish of milk and a little scrap of peace. Again, this is not what one expects with a typical breakfast tea. It far surpasses those sleepy expectations.

Then…off to my 10-year-old bundles of mayhem. One of them, last week, demonstrated his skills in forward somersaulting, backward somersaulting, cabinet climbing, table diving, and chair balancing. Rough family life. He needs a lot of love. I’m praying for an ample supply of it.

K S

So, how cold does it have to get before you show Tazo the guest room? Who didn’t see this coming? :) They have a way of doing that.

As for the 10-year-olds you are a special sort of person. I would not survive one week. The only thing possibly worse is junior high. Not nice of me I know, but at least I know my limits.

gmathis

I love fifth graders—I really do. Around spring break they start turning like bad cheese, but that’s just part of the process. There are just a couple in this bunch that suck all the air out of the room. My usual no-fail lines to get their behavioral attention (“That’s so third grade”) aren’t even registering. I will not, however, concede defeat. Knowing what I do about middle school demographics, this is our last shot at really reaching them.

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K S

So, how cold does it have to get before you show Tazo the guest room? Who didn’t see this coming? :) They have a way of doing that.

As for the 10-year-olds you are a special sort of person. I would not survive one week. The only thing possibly worse is junior high. Not nice of me I know, but at least I know my limits.

gmathis

I love fifth graders—I really do. Around spring break they start turning like bad cheese, but that’s just part of the process. There are just a couple in this bunch that suck all the air out of the room. My usual no-fail lines to get their behavioral attention (“That’s so third grade”) aren’t even registering. I will not, however, concede defeat. Knowing what I do about middle school demographics, this is our last shot at really reaching them.

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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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