I confess: I am indulged (there’s a reason this blog begins w/ a queen bee ). My husband spoils me to the nth degree . Today, for instance, I made reservations for my sister-in-law & I to have tea. You all KNOW how much I love tea. And tea at the Heathman, in Portland, is amazing ~ from the fragrant blueberry scones (fresh from the oven, brimming with Oregon blueberries) to the pillowy homemade marshmallow (much more wonderful than it sounds, trust me), it’s the acme of tea. Even better than tea at the Waldorf or the Peninsula in Hong Kong, both places that know tea.
For a number of reasons, the women in my family (in town for my son’s wedding) couldn’t go. I was disappointed, but I had a lovely tea w/ my bff in Tillamook last week, right? Still, true love means (apparently) going to tea w/ your best beloved. So my husband, who has a pinched nerve and isn’t much of a tea person, volunteered to escort me. Apologising for his blue jeans (he always looks wonderful to me ), he walked me over to the Heathman and we had high tea. It was (not in any order ) delicious, romantic, exceedingly sweet, and just plain great.
I traded him a chocolate devil’s food teacake for his salmon profiterole. He gave me 1/2 of his marshmallow. I had English breakfast; he had Darjeeling. I take milk & sugar; he takes his black. It was wonderful. We haven’t had tea together since the son who’s getting married was… oh, maybe 3? And that would have been long ago and far away…Hong Kong?
The moral to this vignette? Beginner’s heart is often about not saying no to generous gifts . I worried about his back; I worried he’d be bored. And if I’d kept worrying, I would have missed a perfect afternoon: sunlit walk through Pioneer Square, high tea at the Heathman, and a romantic interlude w/ the best husband in the world.
Sometimes it’s good to be the object of the exercise . Sometimes, having fun is a gift in return. And it’s sooo much more fun than worrying!