Flashes of Panic

Many people know I’m a tea drinker. I’m relatively particular about my tea, but in unusual ways—for example, though I like a lot of tea from the snooty British marks, in a pinch I’m happy to drink Red Rose or whatever’s handy. And I can get along with green tea sometimes, but I’m probably already supplied for life.

One thing I definitely don’t like is fruity tea; I avoid “herbals” and I can’t really even get along with black tea with fruit flavors. I have two containers of tea fitting that description, unfortunately, both given to me with the best of intentions by people who are probably reading this. I’ve tried it, and I can’t get past the smell. Can’t figure out what to do with the tea.

But yesterday it hit me: hot tea is one thing, but iced tea is quite another. Jackpot.

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