The tea drinking project continues slowly. I revisited the old stash of Hu Kwa lapsang souchang in the back of the cabinet. It's good. Far better than Adagio's lapsang souchang, which has a bitter aftertaste, and which had led me to forget why I once loved the smoky lapsang.
We are considering reenacting the Boston Tea Party and dumping a bunch of tea in the harbor in protest. It would expedite what will otherwise be a long journey through disfavored teabags. On the top of the list of things to protest is the inequitable distribution of snow in the neighborhood, because of the path the snowplow takes. Huge mountain of snow across my driveway, little teeny mound across the street. Every storm. It breeds resentment and suspicion.
I've decided to blame well-meaning friends for the overstock of bad tea. A note to friends of tea-drinkers: don't give tea as a gift, unless you yourself are a serious tea drinker and know what you are doing. I have received a lot of bad tea this way. Of course I can't throw it out. And now I have to drink it. Yecch. The worst of it is some kind of absurd herbal stuff called "Forest equinox" that smells like juniper berries and tastes like moss. The supply seems infinite.