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Busy ~

Keep oneself occupied "she busied herself with her new home" - Oxford dictionary.


After walking the two dogs this morning, I fed them, brushed them and then swept up the hairs. They're our dogs, but his dog is the hairy one. Then I prepared a pot of tea to have while I caught up with the gossip back home. Making tea is an art form, if you're Irish.


There are different forms of tea making depending on where you come from or how old you are. Some go down the old Classics route and pour boiling water over just the right amount of tea leaves in a teapot, let it sit for just the right amount of time and then pour it in to a China cup sitting on a matching saucer. The impressionists, they use Earl grey or some other fancy flowery teabag. Contemporary style is a favourite for most. This is where you throw a bag, any bag, into a mug, fill it up with boiling water, give it a stir and a squeeze, and convince yourself it's a proper cup of tea.


I myself am the surrealist tea type. I learned this style from my Aunt in Wexford. She kept greyhounds and ran a Post Office, always busy, but still had time to make tea. It involves putting a Lyons teabag in to a pot, adding cold water from the tap, place the pot on the hob and stew the fuck out of it so it resembles tea but looks more like tar. You get a fierce kick out of it and it makes you say "aaahhh".


Of course it's all cawfee over here. Ach, is maith liom cupán tae.


The day is almost done back home so there is a lot of gossip to relay and tea turned in to a chilled white. There is no art form involved with the pouring of a glass of alcohol, if you're Irish.


The rest of the day I busied myself untangling a wind chime.






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