You can never get a cup of tea large enough or a book long enough to suit me.
I know I have written about my afternoon cup of tea before, but here I go again.
I have a collection of fine English Bone China teacups. Back in the day, say twenty years ago, I used them regularly. Then came the move to the country, when everything turned upside-down and I stopped. I continued a habit I've had since childhood, my afternoon tea, but I use an earthenware mug.
I eyed those cups and thought, why not? Well, one answer could be my clumsy, arthritic fingers that don't grasp very well. It would be a shame to drop and break any of these old cups.
But having my tea from a lovely cup does change the ritual. It feels different, as if I should be sitting at a small, doilied table, wearing white gloves and a broad straw hat. Scones and strawberry preserves to be served on a fine china plate accompanied by sterling flatware. Music softly in the background. hmmmm...........
Reality; I sit at a cluttered desk, listening to political radio, wearing my barn clothes. I have a nice cup of tea in a beautiful cup and a really good biscotti, so it's not the worst scenario.
Maybe if everyone had to sit down with a delicate cup once a day, sip their tea and contemplate life for one half hour, perhaps we could learn to be civilized. If we could become civilized, perhaps we could actually be civil.