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Every Friday after acupuncture, I ask myself if I should go to Chinatown for a Hong Kong style milk tea and the answer always seems to be yes. I am guessing that this pattern will continue for the next two weeks or so until my usual schedule is upended by the holiday season.

My trip is always full of small adventures.

It was a frigid Friday with the first wee bit of snow and a wicked wind. Still, the guy on the sidewalk at the main intersection of Chinatown was out there with his red drum kit pounding out mesmerizing rhythms to the shoppers, walkers, and vendors.

I stopped into a mall to take a look at a dim sum restaurant and its menu. Not my usual dim sum place, but maybe a change would be good when and if I am ready to dine in. This place is on the top floor overlooking the street action below: maybe that would be a nice view to enjoy with a meal.

A stranger engaged me as I was waiting for the lift. Why you no bring your husband for dim sum? Eat. EAT. My explanation got swallowed up by the wind as we reached street level.

My usual seat at the bakery was taken, so I sat near the matcha cake display case with my most excellent Hong Kong style milk tea and rice bowl. The tea was so good that I ended up having another. That one was a winner too.

Ah, I so look forward to my Fridays.

Wow! This is pretty tasty! Absolutely surprising because I dug this out of a long neglected Project Sipdown basket. I saw coconut—uh oh. But wow.

Butter coconut first, a blast of tart berry, and then more coconut carried on a reasonable black base. The combination is a bit pastry-like: a raspberry black currant danish sprinkled with fat lashings of toasted coconut.

I had a date with a longtime friend for an extended nature walk, a good visit, maybe some wandering through shops and a snack, and I cancelled. Feeling under the weather, well under the weather. A good day to stay in bed with tea and a book.

And it’s a sipdown!

(I wish I were still properly keeping up with my numbers. It would good to know where I am.)

Friday at the Thai restaurant picking up the chef’s special. This is what I’ve been doing pretty regularly on Fridays and then I catch the frequent bus which takes me to my streetcar.

Today was freezing with a harsh wind and I was underdressed. The wind howled through the bus shelter ten minutes, twenty, thirty, forty. The bus eventually came and it was packed. I just barely squeezed in there.

The bus driver was in a chatty mood and I was his person. Why were the buses so delayed today, I asked. The transit commission has let go all of the bus drivers who refuse to be vaccinated and today was the first day of the ruling. Ok then.

Don’t even get me started.

I had COVId and was in hospital for three weeks on a ventilator, the driver told me. One of my passengers was sick with it and then I got it, he said.

My wife was pregnant with our third child then. I slept in the garage and washed there too to keep my wife and kids safe.

It’s been over a year since I was on the ventilator, but my throat still hurts from it. My chest still hurts. I feel like someone is squeezing my left lung in a fistful of knives every time I breathe, he said.

I got home eventually. It’s been three hours or so since then and I am still defrosting. My skin is still chilled.

Sadly, I had been neglecting my non-caffeinated teas for a long while and this one got shuffled to the bottom of one of my Project Sipdown baskets.

However, this is all milk-chocolatey deliciousness and a wee bit of banana sweetness, even after all this time. Delicious. And warm and wonderful.

I really need to drink Anne’s honeybush blends more often.

Came across the last bit of this, about a half spoon’s worth, in my Project Sipdown basket. Ok, one of my Project Sipdown baskets. Added Capital Teas Ltd’s Keemun Classic to make up the spoon. Smooth with the slightest hint of apple and whisper of vanilla.

Perfect. Especially after a day or two of tropical fruit and jasmine tea, I had been looking forward to a cup of simple and no-nonsense tea.

And it’s a sipdown!

This is such a joyful tea, especially so in these dark grey November days.

True passion fruit with jasmine trailing behind. Jasmine overtakes the passion fruit as it cools. There may be hints of pineapple tartness here as well.

As this is a green black blend, I steeped with cooler water as for green. I’ve been doing my own version of flash steeping. One heaping DT’s perfect spoon, fast steeps under two minutes in and out of my Libre.

When I first began trying French teas, I found them far too perfumey floral in general. This is not that. Both the fruit and the jasmine smell and taste real.

The layering of the flavours is quite remarkable. A masterful blend.

Also, this does not seem to do well in a travel mug. The continued heat dissipates the passion fruit and muddles the jasmine. Still tasty, but not as nuanced as intended.

Happy Day of Thanks to those celebrating today. I am grateful for all of you, my tea friends.

I don’t normally think much of black green tea blends. That said, this blend is the bomb: true passion fruit followed by jasmine, all underpinned by a solid base. The green tea somehow lightens the black and fruit flavours without thinning them.

I have a new mail person. Where I live, there’s a glass windowed enclosed veranda with a door and then there’s a front door with a mail slot. Not complicated, really. Confusing things is that my adjoining neighbours—yeah, those— have a mail slot on the outside, leading to their locked verandah.

In the past while, I’ve found mail outside on the front doorstep, wedged in the verandah door, on the floor of the verandah. Great.

A few days ago, I found a package delivery notice stuffed among some flyers. Instead of finding the package here, I need to go pick it up. All good. It forces me to take that 45-plus minute walk. I’ve been a lazy lump, so all good.

Bundled up and pulled my empty trolley to the designated post office. The woman manning the counter must’ve been new too. I gave her the delivery notice and then realized that I hadn’t brought official ID. I pulled out some utility bills with my name and address. I showed her my gym membership card with my photo on it. I presented my personalized chequebook with my name and address. And nope.

How do I know that this is not my supervisor testing to see whether I follow the rules? Yeah, I’m sure they go to such lengths to check up on their employees.

I left with my empty trolley and unredeemed delivery notice.

I thought that in picking up a parcel, it’d be sufficient to prove who you were and where you live. I guess I was wrong. Or she was new and had something to prove.

Anyway, I was livid.

Thank goodness for delicious tea.