Everything Stops For Tea!

I am soooo English. I didn't realise HOW English I was until we started hosting foreign students. Tea, I have discovered, is a way of life for us, and without it - even if you don't even like or drink the stuff - we'd have a hole in our being. In the mornings, I have to flick the kettle on and pour water onto a teabag before I can even begin to think about getting breakfast sorted for the kids. If I haven't got a brew going by the time I am ready to sit at the table, there's something afoot. I realised my English-ness when I asked one of our students if she would "...like a cup of tea...?" It was the way I pronounced the word, "Tea" - said "Teee", I felt almost embarrassed to have heard it said that way, as I'd never noticed before! Needless to say, most of my offers of "Teee" have been turned down in favour of coffee.
OK, I have to admit that for the past 3 years, I haven't had caffeinated tea, preferring rooibus, chamomile, or good old decaff teabags to my old favourite Yorkshire Tea (strong, splash of milk, no sugar), but I began getting frequent migraines when I was pregnant with my son so cut out caffeine which helped a bit. And I don't drink cow's milk anymore, either: my son developed a cow's milk protein allergy when he was 3 months old and as I was breastfeeding him I cut out dairy to help ease his symptoms. Now I can't stand cows milk, cream or yoghurt, and I feel a whole lot better for it, too.
This, you might think, is not English. Rooibus tea with soya milk? What are you thinking?! But it's the ceremony of tea-making, the act of drinking it, and the passion we have for positioning our routines around the drink that makes it a way of life in England. If there are problems to be shared, decisions to be made, revelations to absorb, a gossip or a catch-up, tea is the ever-present, loyal companion. I even remember my St John's ambulance teacher telling me that a "strong cup of tea with two sugars" was a good remedy for shock. As an 11 year-old I had to take her word for it!

Pat hates tea. I think it goes back to his childhood in West London, where he would go to his Indian friend's houses and there would be a pan of tea on the hob, left all day: a teabag, spoonful of sugar and a dash of milk added frequently throughout the day so that the mix would become progressively more stewed as the day went on. On entering the house, he would be expected to take a drink of the tea whether he wanted to or not! I've tried to convert him, but he's a strict coffee man, nowadays...
Today I went to Holmes For Gardens with the kids for a bit of fruit-picking. We stopped in the cafe to give the kids some lunch, but as I wasn't feeling that hungry, I had a cup of tea, instead. I couldn't help but give a little "ahhhhh!" after a sip or two, mostly as I appreciated a chance to have a few minutes' rest before carrying on! As the saying goes, "everything stops for tea"!