Christmas and the New Year (both Western and Chinese) have passed and February looms. Peaches are amazing at the moment, and I think I want to delve into the land of chunky peach jam. Scented with tea. Yes. Tea. Possibly an Earl Grey or possibly a whiff of Russian Caravan.
Something that says pretty floral china set out on a lawn of daisies, with tattered dolls dressed in their finery and scones laid out and slathered with cream and jam.
Given the summer heat, I'm leaning towards the Russian Caravan. It has that hint of smoke that reminds me of summers of my childhood when we would watch bushfire smoke fill the sky and colour the sun a carnelian shade of orange, and charcoal leaves would drift down into the backyard from some distant blaze.
Something that says pretty floral china set out on a lawn of daisies, with tattered dolls dressed in their finery and scones laid out and slathered with cream and jam.
Given the summer heat, I'm leaning towards the Russian Caravan. It has that hint of smoke that reminds me of summers of my childhood when we would watch bushfire smoke fill the sky and colour the sun a carnelian shade of orange, and charcoal leaves would drift down into the backyard from some distant blaze.
