It seems to me that people who really enjoy reading often have a deep love for tea. At least this is something I have observed among the people I know well. In my family, though, this love runs deeper, we have an ancestral drive to embrace the romance of tea, at least on my mother's side of the family. (She even has one of those uber fancy brass tea cozies!) So, when we took a vacation to Vancouver, British Columbia it was absolutely imperative we visit the Murchie's Tea store. I don't know how many of you are familiar with Murchie's Teas, but apparently they are one of the finest purveyors of English teas. Mom was beside herself with glee. She was going to actually be able to walk into a Murchie's store, smell the teas, touch the teacups, and buy her favorite Earl Grey Tea in BULK!
I, on the other hand, am not so devoted to one type of Tea. My cabinet is filled with all sorts of flavors and provenances of tea, but I was more than happy to experience the wonders that awaited me in Vancouver's Tea Mecca. So mom and I excused ourselves from the company of male companions and drove on over to Murchie's. Mom wasted absolutely no time hunting down her Earl Grey, and waited breathlessly while the shop girl filled a plastic sack with shovel fulls of tea leaves, then carefully tied off the top of the bag with a simple little twist tie, and stuffed it all into a large brown paper bag with the Murchie's Tea logo in a subtle green print. I purchased a couple of samplers of traditional English Black Teas, and a sampler of fruit and vanilla flavored teas. We left the shop with a feeling of contentment, and achievement.
This story would have had a completely happy ending if it weren't for that pesky border guard. As we crossed back into the United States to catch our flights out of Seattle the Border Guard decided that a group of five adults in a rented mini van looked mighty suspicious. He asked us where we had visited while in Canada, and we told him Vancouver. He then prompted us to unlock the back of the van and proceeded to dig through our baggage. You could almost hear his smirk as he noted a bag my mother had purchased on Vancouver Island. "Just Vancouver?" He asked, with obvious interest.
"Well, we did go over to Vancouver Island too for the day." I responded.
He Smiled, and unzipped mom's bag. You could almost see his eyes light up with glee as he opened the brown Murchie's bag. "Ahha!" He pulled out that bag of tea as if he had already received the commendation for the biggest drug bust of the year. Imagine his surprise when he opened the bag to investigate and discovered all those lovely leaves were merely tea.
Now, none of this should have effected my mother's attitude toward tea and Canadian Border guards, but that lout had absolutely no respect for either the contents of that precious bag, or the people who had purchased them. Unknown to us, as we would assume you would take with other people's property, he just shoved the bag of tea back into mom's bag without even making an effort to close it back up. When mom got home her tea was all over her bag full of souvenirs. Coating everything in a fragrant layer of Earl Grey dust. Ever since, my mother has not been able to look at loose tea without a pang of regret and anger at The Man. Note to our Political Leaders: Don't be too careless with other people's property, you just might find yourself facing revolution.
I, on the other hand, am not so devoted to one type of Tea. My cabinet is filled with all sorts of flavors and provenances of tea, but I was more than happy to experience the wonders that awaited me in Vancouver's Tea Mecca. So mom and I excused ourselves from the company of male companions and drove on over to Murchie's. Mom wasted absolutely no time hunting down her Earl Grey, and waited breathlessly while the shop girl filled a plastic sack with shovel fulls of tea leaves, then carefully tied off the top of the bag with a simple little twist tie, and stuffed it all into a large brown paper bag with the Murchie's Tea logo in a subtle green print. I purchased a couple of samplers of traditional English Black Teas, and a sampler of fruit and vanilla flavored teas. We left the shop with a feeling of contentment, and achievement.
This story would have had a completely happy ending if it weren't for that pesky border guard. As we crossed back into the United States to catch our flights out of Seattle the Border Guard decided that a group of five adults in a rented mini van looked mighty suspicious. He asked us where we had visited while in Canada, and we told him Vancouver. He then prompted us to unlock the back of the van and proceeded to dig through our baggage. You could almost hear his smirk as he noted a bag my mother had purchased on Vancouver Island. "Just Vancouver?" He asked, with obvious interest.
"Well, we did go over to Vancouver Island too for the day." I responded.
He Smiled, and unzipped mom's bag. You could almost see his eyes light up with glee as he opened the brown Murchie's bag. "Ahha!" He pulled out that bag of tea as if he had already received the commendation for the biggest drug bust of the year. Imagine his surprise when he opened the bag to investigate and discovered all those lovely leaves were merely tea.
Now, none of this should have effected my mother's attitude toward tea and Canadian Border guards, but that lout had absolutely no respect for either the contents of that precious bag, or the people who had purchased them. Unknown to us, as we would assume you would take with other people's property, he just shoved the bag of tea back into mom's bag without even making an effort to close it back up. When mom got home her tea was all over her bag full of souvenirs. Coating everything in a fragrant layer of Earl Grey dust. Ever since, my mother has not been able to look at loose tea without a pang of regret and anger at The Man. Note to our Political Leaders: Don't be too careless with other people's property, you just might find yourself facing revolution.
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The CookieMomster