Have a Cuppa Sarcasm

I get a kick out of William for a number of reasons. A big one is that some of his interests overlap my own. (Another big one is how they don't, and reading his blog exposes me to parts of the world I don't contact on a regular basis.

He recently blogged about the Science of Sarcasm as well as one of the more bizzare ways to Have a Cuppa. Much of what he writes is fascinating, but these two piqued my attention; one for "oh, that's how that works" and one for "oh, that's just too weird."

My own cuppa these days tends to be tall and full of ice. It's threatening to be 99° tomorrow, I'll need iced tea. I suppose I'm a half purist - I do ice my tea in the hot weather - but I brew the tea and cool it before icing it. Today I'm drinking Twinnings Four Red Fruits black tea, a summer favorite. I was fortunate that my friend Kate asked me "what do you want me to bring you from my safari to Jungle Jim's?" as it's not a tea I've found anywhere in Cleveland.

Coffee has it's place...

This is for William, whose warped sensed of humor used my blog name to title an entry of apalling bizzareness. He thinks coffee drinkers deserve equal time. I'll spare you, gentle hyperlink cliker. You didn't want to see white guys rap about their peculiar enthusisam for tea, did you?

I didn't think so.

Rest in Pieces

I was in such a dash to get out the door last night that I killed my lovely large lilac dragonfly embellished teapot. It smashed on the floor and the remainder of a pot of "Tea of Good Tidings" splooshed out and soaked my foot. So I went to the concert with one wet foot, smelling of spice laden tea. All I've got left to make tea in are the very nice special-occasion-only pots or mugs. One mug at a time, for the time being. Today it's some Irish Breakfast tea in my "Snarling once a day improves the complexion" Sylvia mug.