One of the positive things about suffering the indignities of Whooping Cough for the past couple of months has been that early every morning Elizabeth has arrived at the bedside with a cup of tea and recently even a biscuit. I consider this to be the ultimate luxury!
I happened to mention this to the Grumpy Old Men who I was sitting with on Tuesday morning when the two who had lived in India immediately responded 'Bed Tea'. Had I not just recently read Tarquin Hall's book "The Case of the Deadly Buttered Chicken" loaned to me to help pass the time in recovery (great read, by the way), I would have had no idea what they were talking about. But Bed Tea is mentioned when the hero, a little tired and depressed, sleeps in ignoring the Bed Tea that the maid had left at his bed side. Both of the Grumpy Old Men were quite scathing of the whole notion of Bed Tea - not something that they enjoyed at all.
I, on the other hand have a very long tradition of a cup of tea early in the morning. It was, however, never called 'Bed Tea' it was always Early Morning Tea. I remember, as a very small child, participating in the ritual of Early Morning Tea as being a very special privilege. It was served very first thing in the morning before the men of the house went out to do their early morning chores - before breakfast (which was served later) and before the real work of the day began.
Whenever I was included my tea was served hot, weak and milky. Perhaps there was also a biscuit or a slice of toast. It was marvelous to be included because it meant that I was a man of substance with real work to do - at the age of 4!
I had a great conversation with my brother about Early Morning Tea. He reminded me that certainly in a normal day in a farming family there were 7 meals served - Early Morning Tea, Breakfast, Morning Tea, Dinner, Afternoon Tea, Tea and a late snack of tea and food perhaps called Supper. I remember that the kitchen was a pretty busy place.
He reckons that as a small child he didn't have tea because of rationing but there was always plenty of milk. He says that he didn't really start drinking tea until about the time that I did.
There was plenty of milk around at one stage because of our hired goat. That is correct - my Dad hired a goat! It seems that Mr Harrison from Warialda had goats for hire. Mr Harrison figured in my life quite a bit later on because he later lived just up the street in Sawtell. Anyway Dad had the great idea of hiring a goat. There were lots of great ideas like that in our extended family. Our back yard in Delungra was a bit like a desert so there wasn't a lot of food for the poor goat. It turned out, anyway, that the goat only had a liking for lucern hay. So generous dad found himself supporting the local producers of baled lucern hay. Clearly the business plan had not been thought through all that well and something had to go. Bye bye goat. Fortunately, I don't remember this episode. otherwise my childhood would have been more traumatic than it already was.
