Turns out the bed is also the best place to sniff and pet my tea cakes. Keep in mind that a pile of beeng cha is not the only thing I'm rolling over. Normally I keep a tea tray full of various objects on the other side of the bed. Right now the tea tray I'm using is a Chantal in Pumpkin. On this tray I currently have: various lip balms, a cartridge fountain pen, various vitamin bottles, two cells phones, a weekly pill box, cotton, a USB cable, Fishermen's Friend mints, a box of wooden kitchen matches (don't ask), a jar of Albolene, rechargeable batteries, a Converse watch, an e-cigarette, and a small camel hair brush. The brush is the important thing because I use it to brush mold off my Tuos over the small wastepaper basket next to the bed. Currently I am brushing a 2013 Xiaguan Ji Si (gold ribbon tuo) that I'm aging in this tin cup along with some other no-name tiny beeng. My little aging process browned the tea, and started lifting apart the tuo causing her ribbon to fall out.
|Tuo tin. Dunno what it says. Rather like the drawing, he's hot.|
|I can't guess what this is. Red Crane fake something maybe.|
I'm sheepish enough, however, to know the nuns would be appalled at my behavior. Especially Sister Grace Clare who conducted impromptu inspections of our rooms and caught my bed unmade a few times. But she is dead now, and that limits the impact of her criticism to a mental chorus consisting of other mostly dead nuns. The truth is I may not be far behind them on the road to the misty afterlife. However, I plan to out-live them all which means only a couple more years while blissfully brushing my beengs to the very end, because of another truth that I treasure far more:
When one has a tea habit, one has an excuse to ignore other hobbies normal people my age are supposed to have. For instance, I can sniff in superiority to the ladies who gym. Who has time for all the fuss of institutional exercise facilities when I'm busy at home rotating my beengs for optimal humidity distribution and air flow? I can ix-nay on the book club because my intelligence finds work cataloguing and translating characters while reading between the bug bites. I don't require the latest romance novel when I can nap and dream of Taiwan businessmen driving a Lexus with Lao Cha Tou bricks in their pants. And who needs to waste time wandering a farmer's market when I can already guess what they are selling, and instead check out what's new on Yunnan Sourcing, tasty things I've never, ever seen before? You see, tea is a serious hobby, far more engaging than getting together for an Avon party. Patting my cheeks with puerh works just as well as any of those trendy facial mists. In fact, I've been considering forgoing deodorant altogether and just slapping some wet tea where it counts if I simply must bother to go out. One of my friends said she might buy me a green tea deodorant, I just laughed, silly thing. Tea certainly confers innumerable exemptions and simplifies my life from activities other people take so seriously.
See? I've written an entire post already and didn't get around to discussing the Xiaguans, which is really what I intended to do here. Anyone can see I'm far too busy to interact with people out in the real world, what with all this tea around me, and plenty of tea drunks online to chat with. And then I have Dear Son nagging about supporting me on his part-time convenience store job, and I get distracted needing to tell him for the umpteenth time why taking a second job is really the best solution for him. Now, I must get all this tea off the bed for my nap. I will put Xiaguan on my calendar to discuss another day.
Requiescat in Pace.