Monk's Blend

My thoughtful and creative gift-giving husband saw to it I had about 3 bulk ounces each of German chamomile, Oregon peppermint, and lavender for experimenting and blending.

So I tried a teaspoonful of the lavender with my old standby Monk’s Blend. May have to work with the proportions a little, but it tones down the grenadine sweetness a little and — well, tastes a little like a purple Crayola. (Not that I ever actually ate one during my formative years.)

But then again, if you’re a sucker for blank paper and a brand new box of pointy crayons….

Anyway, it’s pleasant and purple and I’m feeling decidedly relaxed and Christmas pudding-y.

Just a comfy old favorite to match my Saturday morning-at-the-writing-desk ratty jeans and baggy Mizzou sweatshirt. The grenadine scent this morning makes me think of fruitcake…which makes me hungry for fruitcake…which makes me shake my head because if I’m that ADD this early in the morning, it’s going to be a LONG way to 1200 words….

Lighter, fruitier teas get shoved to the back of the cabinet during the coldest weather, but it’s time for the Monk to see the light of day again.

This tail-end of a pound is ancient…seriously, easily four years old…but the grenadine-vanilla bounce (can’t call it a kick…it’s sort of like dropping cotton balls on a table, it’s so gentle) is still there, even without doubling up on the leaf.

Made a big pot this morning specifically for the purpose of icing down after an afternoon of pending yard work. My tin is beginning to remind me of the widow’s jar of flour (if you’re a prophet Elijah fan, you’ll get it :) … every time I think I’m getting to the last scoop, there’s just enough for one more…

Well, at least I THINK it was Monk’s blend … I have room for just one biscuit tin of teabags on my desk, and I had made some little fill-it-yourself sachets and stuck them in a baggie and they filtered down to the bottom of the tin and I’m not sure how long they were there. Some cheapie mint foil bags have seemed to permeate the whole mess …

…but if it was what it was, despite gross neglect and mistreatment, the aroma was still quite pleasant and it was a gentle little un-tea for a cloudy lunch hour.

…and the moral to this little cautionary tale is…