Take a leaf out of my book and tea it up

I DRINK tea. All sorts, including T and U, V, W, X, Y, Z!

May as well do the rest of the alphabet tea, I mean too, after all there are so many different flavours.

Looking at other letters, and who would drink them, the G Tea for revheads, I Tea of course for the computer kids, J Tea for footy legends, M Tea if your feeling hungry!

This is fun, how about E Tea to drink while phoning home, but one thing’s for sure, I’m not trying P Tea.

The point of this in- depth exposé, or tea cosy, when does it stop being tea? Look at Twinings for goodness sake, how can you call a tea “Russian caravan”!

Does it taste like a Russian caravan, if you drink it does your voice go and you sound Siberian husky?

Worse still, drink too much and you do that Russian Cossack dance, squatting all the time.

We could have a similar local brand called the Giru Campervan.

Before bed I’m often treated to a new discovery by someone very close to me, better not be souvlaki tea!

Last night it was chocolate, turmeric, ginger and almond tea! Yes it was nice, but is it really tea, and what a combination, chocolate and turmeric!

Though to Mum and Barb, anything with chocolate in it must be good for you. While I’m typing to you, slowly and two fingers, I went to the cupboard to sneak a peek at tonight’s, or teanight’s surprise, and here it is: bergamot, peppermint and lemon!

What’s bergamot? Isn’t he the baddie from Harry Potter?

I’m not sneaking a taste, she’ll know, so I’ll act as if it’s glorious, and tip it on the lemon tree, she’s always telling me, “tea on the lemon tree”, or is that pee on the lemon tree?

To have a cuppa, and read a book, is a glorious pastime, though these days we are simply too busy being busy, pity eh.

But if by wisdom we do spend some quiet time with a book, there’s a lovely reminiscence by Joyce Higgins, My Townsville. I love the name, because, in our hearts, we all use it, and that’s the true essence of this wondrous city.

We feel we belong, and this place called home, belongs to us.

Joyce is an incredible character and her book of memories is out on Thursday.

A lovely homely read about our early years, it was written here, printed here, probably a mango stain or two in it, and even a coloured photo of an abandoned shopping trolley, now that is very “us”.

Trolleys are famous, and those old broken prams near Ross Creek, there you go, a name for a book on that, Silence Of The Prams. Joycey launches the book on Thursday at the uni, perfect if they want to check the spelling. Good Luck Joyce, a wonderful book, remember BOOKS, great entertainment, and you don’t have to plug it in.

Happy days. Oorroo.