All the Tea in China by Barbara Quinn

I’m a tea drinker. My morning brew is hearty Irish since it has a nice caffeine kick. I’m grumpy in the morning, a slow starter. But once my tea has warmed me, and the fog of sleep dissipates, I become conversational and eventually pleasant, though my husband might say it’s more like noon before I’m truly civil. He too is grateful for my tea habit.

When it’s cold, I’ll brew a cup of green tea to get me through the chilly afternoon. In the summer I make pitchers of herbal teas to serve iced. In the evening, no matter the season, I finish off my meal with a pot of herbal or decaf tea. No more caffeine in the evenings for me. Decaf espresso ends some of my meals, iced coffee in the summer is a great pick-me-up, and no dinner is complete without wine, but tea is my most frequent beverage companion.

When I travel, I take a tiny immersion coil to heat my water. Any tea drinker will tell you that the coffee pots in hotel rooms make an awful cup of tea. Though I miss the tea my proper teapot makes, the coil heats the water in a minute or two providing a decent cup.

I use lemon, not milk or cream. When I was backpacking through Italy as a college student I became friendly with a young Roman fellow who was the concierge at my pensione. He quit his job to travel with me and our innocent romance turned to friendship. In the mornings he brought me tea in a white bowl with a large slice of lemon floating on top. That round slice looked like the Italian sun floating in my cup. I added a little sugar and was hooked by the tangy and sweet taste. Ever since then, I’ve drunk my tea with lemon.

Each morning when I float a slice of lemon in my cup, fond memories rise up. That slice of sunshine gives my eyes and brain something familiar to focus on, something that’s not blinking, or ringing or asking incessant questions. My tea with lemon waits to charm me, bring me pleasure, and propel me forward into my day. There is joy and comfort in familiar rituals and habits, even in something as simple as enjoying a cup of tea.

What The World Needs Now by Barbara Quinn

I’m grateful for this earth we live on. Every breath we take, every vista we view, is part of an amazingly complex system. I’m glad that more and more people are starting to realize how fragile this system is. When I saw a video of polar bears drowning in the Arctic due to too much of their habitat melting, I couldn’t take my eyes from the screen. It was horrifying. From where I sit, it seems that in one generation global warming has accelerated at a far more rapid pace than anyone ever imagined.

I’m grateful to have seen the shift toward acceptance of the fact that we do have a global warming problem. We have a problem, and we are capable of figuring out solutions to ensure the lives of future generations. Willie Nelson’s biodiesel (called BioWillie) is finally gaining some attention. There are hybrid cars, solar power, wave action, and wind power. Hydrogen fuel cells are starting to appear. We have a long way to go, but there’s no reason to believe that we can’t succeed. Hey, I don’t want my car to smell like French-fry oil, but I’ll accept that if that’s what it takes. Buy stock in that Little Tree car air-freshener company!

I’m also grateful that we have a dialog with China. Without China adopting some environmental rules, this mission to save the planet cannot succeed.

Here’s to the great science minds. You are what the world needs now. May your solutions spread throughout the world as quickly as you can think them up.