the water kefir bubbles away on the kitchen bench next to the milk kefir next to the kombucha.
below on the floor in a crock sauerkraut does its blurbling and farting.
or as bec says we are the masters of rotting.
once I only had to sieve the milky yogurt kefir add some water and drink it first thing in the morning to ease its goodness into my intestines stomach and future well being.
before that it had been a squeeze of lemon juice in warm water.
they are all terribly beneficial of course with their anti oxidant rich properties their sour fermented gases their minerals of this and that.
the pressure is on now to accommodate all these other beneficial drinks.
and I am not sure I am up to the task especially since I haven’t given up on pots of tea.
Oh no not on your nellie not ready to give the cuppa away.
afterall there is something sacred about it.
in some ways it smooths out the edges.
it is the upper and the downer
the fix of all fixes.
the highlight of the morning and the classic end to a long day.
it is high ceremony;
a teapot warmed, the cup and saucer waiting, tea leaves added , the water boils and then left to brew under its colourful crocheted cosy.
Add a milk jug a sugar bowl for those not sweet enough a pot of honey even
then there is the peace and surrender to the gentle grace of sitting and sipping .
aaaahhhhhh can be exhaled as you place the cup back onto its saucer.
the lewins honeyeaters flying in and out of the wisteria arbour carrying fine threads of down hair and grasses.
a sacred kingfisher flashes its turquoise coat from the fig tree and the heavy scented honey flowers of the angophora drift in bursts to the ground.
skinks slide along the window sill and scuttle about the dishes on the sink.
the black snake cruises the grey water channels tongue busy scouting frog, rat or lizard.
wonga pigeon bobbing its head struts importantly around the shrubberies
whichever season whichever story whatever the joy or the grief
that cup of tea holds a magical place beside my heart hearth.