2010/11/10
Red tape
http://www.miamiherald.com/2010/11/06/1912810/to-fight-corruption-start-cutting.html
Read me^
I wonder if this works with all procedures...
Read me^
I wonder if this works with all procedures...
2010/11/07
Miller Teaches Me Tea
I drank tea quite a lot when I lived in Kenya, and it was wonderful. This isn't to say I don't enjoy coffee- I believe they're both amazing tastes and should be both be enjoyed at the appropriate time.
However, even though I've had tea for ages, I always made it... somewhat haphazardly. Which didn't seem to bother me, but I didn't know any better *insert Plato's cave here*. Which is funny since I've been saying lately that a great skil to have is enjoying life as it comes to you (if they rice isn't spicy enough, that's alright) or for lack of a better word: attitude.
But I digress, again, because miller taught me to make tea this past Thursday!
I was late, by about an hour, and Miller is a very hard man to keep up with (I had to book our meeting a month in advance!). So when I showed up to his house, I was very worried he'd wandered off to another engagement. But luckily he'd been sitting in his favorite chair in the apartment I believe he wishes was still an actual dorm on Georgia Tech's campus.
Like always; Miller greeted me warmly, and immediately proposed tea accompanied by his stories about oxford, and how the brits are obsessed with tea. He then asked; "do you know how to make tea?" That's one of those statements which you guess at once is more pointed than it might appear on the surface. I used to ask the same questions to patron's of REI when I quired them on their understanding of backpacks, of corse it seems simple which is probably why no one questions it.
"I think so?" I responded, knowing a little of Millers intricacies. Now I'm ad libing here, because Miller is quite the word smith, and I lack his eloquence. "Well then, you know how the english put the bag in slowly from the top, just like this," as he lowered the tea bag ever so slowly into the steaming water, "so that the air escapes to the top, and the bag doesn't float up at the top. Excellent!" He prescribed as both his and my tea bags floated to the bottom.
"Now then, take your spoon." No longer questioning whether I knew what I was doing or not, and even if I had know I doubt I would have cared, "and press the tea bag on the bottom a few time" As I copied his example the brown tea stained water spread though the clear water, a white cup making this experience all the more observable.
"Good, now here comes the tricky part." After a few presses, he lifted his bag out of the water, myself beign shocked, as I was used ot leaving it in the cup the whole time I consumed my drink, "take the tea bag in the spoon, and fold it over like this." The tea leaves in the spoon, and the remaining cloth folded over top, with the sting being left to dangle.
"Now press, using the paper as a guard from the heat." The little paper on the end of the string being vital to this step. The tea bag was emptied of water (and the tea slightly more flavorful).
"Awesome," Miller elated in his slow drawn out way that made it sound so much more powerful, than the quick meaningless outburst which words can be phrased, yet avoiding the stoneresque deadness which can be attacked to the word.
"Now I enjoy my tea sweat as the sun, and dark as the night, so I'll leave how much sugar you add up to you, but I enjoy three spoonfuls." I opted for two, not trusting my bitter tooth which had enjoyed coffee for so long.
"And there you have my fine fury friend, a perfect cup of Tea!"
Thanks Miller
However, even though I've had tea for ages, I always made it... somewhat haphazardly. Which didn't seem to bother me, but I didn't know any better *insert Plato's cave here*. Which is funny since I've been saying lately that a great skil to have is enjoying life as it comes to you (if they rice isn't spicy enough, that's alright) or for lack of a better word: attitude.
But I digress, again, because miller taught me to make tea this past Thursday!
I was late, by about an hour, and Miller is a very hard man to keep up with (I had to book our meeting a month in advance!). So when I showed up to his house, I was very worried he'd wandered off to another engagement. But luckily he'd been sitting in his favorite chair in the apartment I believe he wishes was still an actual dorm on Georgia Tech's campus.
Like always; Miller greeted me warmly, and immediately proposed tea accompanied by his stories about oxford, and how the brits are obsessed with tea. He then asked; "do you know how to make tea?" That's one of those statements which you guess at once is more pointed than it might appear on the surface. I used to ask the same questions to patron's of REI when I quired them on their understanding of backpacks, of corse it seems simple which is probably why no one questions it.
"I think so?" I responded, knowing a little of Millers intricacies. Now I'm ad libing here, because Miller is quite the word smith, and I lack his eloquence. "Well then, you know how the english put the bag in slowly from the top, just like this," as he lowered the tea bag ever so slowly into the steaming water, "so that the air escapes to the top, and the bag doesn't float up at the top. Excellent!" He prescribed as both his and my tea bags floated to the bottom.
"Now then, take your spoon." No longer questioning whether I knew what I was doing or not, and even if I had know I doubt I would have cared, "and press the tea bag on the bottom a few time" As I copied his example the brown tea stained water spread though the clear water, a white cup making this experience all the more observable.
"Good, now here comes the tricky part." After a few presses, he lifted his bag out of the water, myself beign shocked, as I was used ot leaving it in the cup the whole time I consumed my drink, "take the tea bag in the spoon, and fold it over like this." The tea leaves in the spoon, and the remaining cloth folded over top, with the sting being left to dangle.
"Now press, using the paper as a guard from the heat." The little paper on the end of the string being vital to this step. The tea bag was emptied of water (and the tea slightly more flavorful).
"Awesome," Miller elated in his slow drawn out way that made it sound so much more powerful, than the quick meaningless outburst which words can be phrased, yet avoiding the stoneresque deadness which can be attacked to the word.
"Now I enjoy my tea sweat as the sun, and dark as the night, so I'll leave how much sugar you add up to you, but I enjoy three spoonfuls." I opted for two, not trusting my bitter tooth which had enjoyed coffee for so long.
"And there you have my fine fury friend, a perfect cup of Tea!"
Thanks Miller
