Osmanthus flower tea

osmanthusOur yard has a big bush in the middle, which obscures half the space, and effectively divides the plot into
fore-bush and after-bush. The breeze usually blows from the stables (imagine the pungent scent of horse urine and fly dope) so the ‘habitat’ gets dosed pretty regularly.
Since the bush was planted fifteen years ago the annual profusion of apricot & honey scented flowers shames the horse aromas (which I admit I kinda like, but the fly dope is not acceptable) into submission.
This year the floral blast is remarkable and I just go into the yard for a bit of aromatherapy.
Especially at twilight when the light changes from day to dusk to dark and even just a minute’s worth of eye-shut brings a new shade of evening, and another cricket striking her ribs or whatever they do to make those heavenly sounds.
This evening I went the extra mile.
I took a NYTimes stolen from the recycling bin down the street, brewed some fresh Brooke Bond tea and sat in my queenly chair.
And jumped up because I never just sit and sit and stay seated.
Jumped up and pulled a few of the Osmanthus flowers into my hand and dropped an exorbitant amount into the cup, poured in the tea and drank it up.
I am wondering if it gets changed or if my er…if I’ll…er.
Can this solve the question of ‘gas’?
Wouldn’t it be cool if it did?
Miss Flatula Clark wonders if she can get away with dangerous food pairings by simply swilling Osmanthus Tea.
That should be direct enough.
Don’t know if this is blog caliber writing, though.
Might as well run it up the hill and see…


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