With a Cup of Tea

Thing get done. 

And according to Three Cups of Tea ( must read)

One cup of tea; you are a guest

Two cups of tea; you have become a friend

Three cups of tea; you are family

Memories 

I have a lot of memories of tea from a very early age. Below are a few--- not the only important ones but just a few to explain my love and appreciation of the Art of tea.

But my very favorite has to be with my grandfather

He's the very dashing man in the middle.  Benjamin Mitman. Opi as I call him. 

He used to brew a cup of loose-leaf Jasmine tea every afternoon like clockwork and then he would put his cups of sugar in his cup and the biggest smile on his face would appear. When I was between the age of 10-12, I stayed with Omi and Opi for two weeks of the summer. My favorite and really only memory would spending the daily ritual with him. I forever have a love of black tea. 

Memory number two-- Cha for Tea, 

Although I share this place with a few people, the last four years has been attached to hours spent with Natalie and Leallani Stewart and various other friends.

And always in the wee hours of the morning. Soy Almond Milk Tea with pearls. The best night laughing and much snorting. Great friends and Taboo-- my nights were overjoyed. This place shares a special place in my heart.

The Queen drinks tea as well as Ashley wells. 

Miss Ashley Wells,  studied at Oxford and with that brought back her love of English Breakfast Tea. She has developed the science of making it. Bowl the water. Let is sit. Three tea bags in a tea kettle. Pour in the water--let steep. Put milk and sugar in a mug and put in the microwave but only long enough to warm the milk and let the sugar sweeten it. Then pour the tea in the mug and perfectly it is stirred. 

 

 Lots of conversations have come through tea in our house, as well as over twenty types of tea in our home. Which over half means something special to a specific person in the house. Ash with her English Breakfast-- I enjoy my Rooibos tea to remember Africa. Etc..

But the Excitement continues....

Finding great loose-leaf tea can be a challenge around here.  I found a great place in Los Angeles right by Amoeba called Ground Works. The place is calming in the heart of chaos. 

But today I found a gem and only by chance. 

Photo Courtesy of Bird Pick

 This place is whimsical and the girl that helped me was a doll and helped me tremendously. Although she probably thought I was crazy for sniffing a million teas. It was heaven for my nose either way. I found this place in the heart of Old Pasadena (they also have other locations).  I knew when I saw this place that I had found the place for me. I only got to spend ten minutes in here and it is probably a good thing.  They have so many types of teas, White, Oolong,  Green, Black, Blossoming-- you get the picture. I bought Jasmine Tea and Black Forest Tea-- Both taste AMAZING.  Bird Pick pays so much attention to detail all the way down to the packaging. With a  brown bag with their logo (two birds-- my favorite) and Lime Green tissue paper. The presentation was lovely and details are important to me.

It is all in the name and I the meaning says it all.

"The name Bird Pick originates from an ancient practice of cultivating the finest tea leaves. Extraordinary birds with acute senses would pick out the best leaves for their own nourishment. We strive for the same standards by selecting the most aromatic leaves to make our special blend of teas."

Their mission. 

"Whether a novice or true connoisseur of tea, our setting encourages you to explore and sample a premier selection of teas in a friendly and welcoming environment."

I would have loved more time to explore Bird Pick

I can't wait until my next trip to Pasadena happens. This will be priority and I cannot wait to tell more people about this place and cannot wait to try more of their teas and spices.  Mmmm so excited. 

I will end with this.  I texted on of my housemates telling here to move to Pasadena because I found her ideal tea place. I left my pretty little bag on the counter tonight. When I came home-- she pranced down the stairs very excited asking me to explain this tea place. After I explained-- she mentions, "Well I kind of already checked it out and got excited-- And I love the two birds on the logo." 

I slid her the business card and five minutes later found her in her room salivating over  her keyboard as she was perusing the website finding the closest locations and  dreaming of the blossoming teas. 

Oh what a day,

and so it goes:

wearing my sunglasses in an airport,  My eyes are very light sensitive at the moment

i look like i'm crying, Maybe because my eye won't stop watering

my eye hurts,  Pretty sure I have an abrasion on my eye

walking around aimlessly because I can't see signs,  I forgot my glasses in California and can't where contacts-- I'm blind. I couldn't even order the drink menu at a coffee shop.

flight's delayed,  Yes, please prolong the fact that I need to go to Urgent Care/ the ER

and why yes I would love to finish my burnt mocha, Yep, bad coffee is my favorite thing 

I don't want to even begin the discussion on how my mother worked the entire time while I was in Indiana and the day she calls in is the day that I can't do anything besides sit in a room  

On a plus side, my wallet fell out of my bag and a man found it for me. But I couldn't see anything when he pointed at it. Oh yes, what a day. 

and it's not even ten o'clock yet.

I am that cool.

This is Revival

Surrounding village near Dondo, Mozambique, there was revival.  Travis, an American with his heart attached to far away lands, lead the revivals that summer for Iris Ministries. Lead by the Spirit, he was wrapped with courage and wrapped with words.


Palavras de Deus

Friday afternoon we packed the open truck trailer  much like a suitcase. The kind where you stuff and stuff and have to sit on it to make it close, this was the truck that people would cram into let everyone settle for a quick second and cram more people in. Revival nights were interesting,  dressed in Sunday best is a must. A few of us girls decided to try our Capulanas (Sarong) that Jack, a boy from the orphanage, took us to buy from the local market place. To be real honest, this revival thing had no interest to me. I was spent and knew I would leave these people that night. Why waste energy?

We make it to the village, barely, the police have a thing for trying to stop the Spirit. As we begin to unload, there is no electricity. There are no roads. Only dirt and huts surround. I see brown-eyed children make an invisible line between them and the Muzungo, white people. Honestly, these people look terrified. "How is a revival supposed to happen when they won't even look at me?" The tables surely have turned for me. It's a strange feeling being the minority.

Set up happens, the music starts. The invisible line becomes hazy. I stand in the back and observe. Then somewhere through the worship, walls break. There is no minority and majority. We become one. The dancing begins. Oh it begins.

Before I know it, I'm surrounded by ten little girls. Gosh, they were so beautiful. They would take my hand and shake their little hips with more oomph than huge hips could shake. I smile at the little girls, they take my hand and imply that it is my turn to dance in the circle. What else can you do?

Just dance.

They follow. Then the next girl goes. I follow. Around and around we go in circles, shaking our hips and jumping to the beat. Joy flushes through the night.

"Are you ready to give a quick testimony?"  Travis said.
"What am I supposed to say?" I said.
"Anything, something you've experienced and something they can understand too,"  he said.
"I don't know."
"I'll call you when it's time."

Oh goodness, I'm not the evangelizing type of missionary. What do I have to say? 
"God is my strong tower, he builds our house upon a rock and not on sand when when rely on Him. He is a comforter in all times, Good and bad"
Okay, I have a skeleton. 

Reveal. 


Let us dance more. 

Hours pass. The energy exhilarating. Constantly. Increasing.

The night came and went, when all the light that was left were the stars.

Let us revive more. Let us pray into one another and be just as we are, just as God intended.  One with the night, one with the light. We move our feet and dance to win the fight.

I am a Cluttered Mess.

Please excuse the mess of my blog, I'm figuring some stuff out.

someday it'll look pretty--- i hope.

About the name

 

I realized the other day that I've never defined my name. Five or six years ago, I came up with it but with reason. When I started my blog it was obvious to me why I would use beautyinherveins, but now discovering that it may not be obvious to the reader. So, here it is.

About:

Often times we get caught up in the idea of beauty. We spend hours reinventing ourselves to perfection. The distortion develops based on what is current from the latest fashion spreads to the World’s top lists. We starve, we morph and we forget. We forget what is considered beauty. “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” A saying that has lived through the ages; a saying that is all too true.  This is a call for the beholder.  Forget about the standard and find the beauty that is with in embedded in your veins. A beauty that is created within, that has been hidden. This unique beauty that only can dwell in someone created by the hands of a wonderful maker. Beholder, it is time to uncover, it is time to reinvent.


Beauty. in. her. veins.