Dec 9

Today’s tea is Mint Melody, a green tea with lots of mint added to it. It smells far more of mint than tea, which is probably inevitable with something as aromatic as mint. Luckily, we’re pro-mint, which not everyone is. And it does taste quite strongly of mint, even seconds after steeping. The green tea gives it a nice, rounded quality though. It’s not all mint, like some teas we’ve had in the past, and it’s not a weird cocktail of tea-like herbs someone threw in a sachet with extra sugar. It’s very seasonal. Sort of like. drinking an After Eight, but without the chocolate.

Talking of seasonal, the tree is up, and so’s today’s poem. If you don’t know Brian Bilston, you’re about to become addicted . He’s a genius at light verse.

Dec. 11

Today’s tea was Darjeeling Afternoon, which, full admission, we drank in the morning.

An excellent choice, because this black tea is wonderful for productivity. We’ve done al lthe Christmas cards, posted several parcels, sorted everyone’s gifts, and did battle with the fleas. They thoughtfully showed up in September, and even though it’s December and it’s the world’s mildest infestation, they refuse to die. The cat is unamused. We’re unimpressed. The dogs don’t even notice.

We ran out of Darjeeling Afternoon by four o’clock, so we switched to a Harrods’ Christmas bend courtesy of a friend. Also a lovely tea. We drank it while writing the Christmas cards.

Along the way, we battled the customs form for Canada post. Did you know it’s now impossible to fill one in in person? Neither did we. It’s great. The form won’t do large-print and it willfully infilled misinformation that we weren’t allowed to change. Canada Post, in the unlikely event you’re reading, take note: This violates the Ontario Disabilities Act. You’re supposed to have options for your partially-sighted users that accommodate us. And, you know, maybe accommodate the little granny types who don’t want to fill the form in online while you’re at it. It’s not hard. There are lots of people who have valid reasons for not filling this stupid customs thing in online. And it’s not like it saved us any time, because the woman at the post office had to correct the willfully mistyped stuff that I couldn’t correct (there is no Toronto in Germany, autofill!), but she still had to input all the info!

So, who does this help? Not us. Not the postal workers. But it does actively discriminate against great sections of Canadians trying to send their Christmas parcels! Huzzah! Sort it, guys.

Sorry. We didn’t mean to read you the accessibility riot act. Please have some light verse in compensation. No one writes it like Wendy Cope.

The Orange
Wendy Cope

At lunchtime I bought a huge orange—
The size of it made us all laugh.
I peeled it and shared it with Robert and Dave—
They got quarters and I had a half.

And that orange, it made me so happy,
As ordinary things often do
Just lately. The shopping. A walk in the park.
This is peace and contentment. It’s new.

The rest of the day was quite easy.
I did all the jobs on my list
And enjoyed them and had some time over.
I love you. I’m glad I exist.

In Which We All Need Levity

Forgive us if today’s blog runs short. We finished rattling off 4500 words for work approximately half an hour ago. A cup of tea later and the sensation is still the way we imagining walking into a brick wall feels.

We did manage to stop for elevenses and try today’s tea, though. We were anxious about it because it was called Sweet Potato Pie and we aren’t wild about sweet potatoes. A good rule of thumb is that if it’s orange and gourd-like, we probably don’t like it. The absolute worst offender on this front is sweed, which we used to think Mrs. Read was over-egging when she condemned it. But then we moved to a British hall of residence. Turns out Miss Read undersold how dire sweed is.

Luckily, Sweet Potato Pie tastes nothing like sweet potato. If it tastes of anything, it’s chestnut. We’re a bit sorry we didn’t ration this black tea out, because we would drink it again. But if you will name your teas after hideous orange gloop…

It’s also a highly restorative tea. It’s probably too caffeinated for anyone who doesn’t want much caffeine past mid-morning, but it suited us fine. It got us through the 4500 obligatory words for work.

Even so, after all of that, we need some levity. Here’s a textbook example of light verse to get you through your evening.

Some Rules
Wendy Cope

Stop, if the car is going “clunk”
Or if the sun has made you blind.
Don’t answer e-mails when you’re drunk.

You fire off something fierce. You’re sunk.
It’s irretrievable. It’s signed.
You feel your spirits going “clunk.”

Don’t hide your face with too much gunk,
Especially if it’s old and lined.
Don’t answer e-mails when you’re drunk.

Don’t live with thirty years of junk—
Those precious things you’ll never find.
Stop, if the car is going “clunk.”

Don’t fall for an amusing hunk,
However rich, unless he’s kind.
Don’t answer e-mails when you’re drunk.

In this respect, I’m like a monk:
I need some rules to bear in mind.
Stop, if the car is going “clunk.”
Don’t answer e-mails when you’re drunk.

We would add ‘Do not take on eleventh-hour projects of over three thousand words to be done by mid-morning Monday on a Thursday.’ But it doesn’t scan.