We made mud and petted a camel today. And as my ears were full of squeals and giggles for three solid loud and energetic hours, a little semi-silence is delicious this evening. Cicadas, a little air conditioning hum, and that’s all.
Joining me for this little interlude is a cup of the same jasmine tea I raved about a couple months ago. Research (that is, shaking down the work friend who brought it to me) confirms that these little pearls were procured at the Waikiki Tea Room, and that Lady M, an upscale pastry and confection vendor, doesn’t have any tea at all on its website, even though there’s a silver Lady M sticker on the packet.
I’ve emailed their customer service folks to see if they’ll provide a lead. Unless it’s as pricey as real pearls, it’s well worth hunting down. It’s the sweetest, fruitiest jasmine I’ve ever sampled, it doesn’t balk at my ham-handed steeping, and tonight, it’s laced with a little honeysuckle. Far too elegant for my messy living quarters and bare bug-bit feet. (I believe I’m done with summer now.)