The art of a good brew Because let’s face it, there’s nothing in life that a nice cup of tea can’t fix. very morning the MOTH (The Man of the House) makes the tea. He warms the pot, drops in a generous amount of loose tea and pours on freshly boiled water. Then we wait for the tea to ‘steep’. It doesn’t matter if the plane has landed, the meeting has started, the crisis has escalated or the show is about to go on. Then we wait. The MOTH makes tea the way his dad taught him – tea that grows hairs on your chest, tea that won two World Wars. Tea so strong it wakes you up, shrivels your tongue and makes you proud to be Australian all at the same time. The MOTH believed it was his job to pass on his tea-making skills to the
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next generation of Aussies. On winter PAT McDERMOTT weekends when our children were young he’d build a wee fire on stones at the bottom of the garden and ‘boil a billy’. “What would you do if you were cold and alone in the bush and wanted a hot cup of tea?” he asked. “Find a McDonalds,” said one. “Call the police and ask them to bring pizza,” said another. “Ring Mum on my mobile and tell her I’m in big trouble and to come and get me right away!” That would be Ruff Red. “I’d have a compass and a mobile phone and warm clothes and insect repellent,” added Flynn. “And a dog to keep me warm and a lot of food,” chirped Courtenay. WITH
Reagan, who was the eldest, said the whole idea was ridiculous. She’d never be stuck in the woods because she didn’t go anywhere that didn’t have flushing toilets. “Fine!” said the MOTH. “But while you waited for help you could make billy tea! All you need is a billy, tea leaves and matches.” “We’re not allowed to play with matches,” sniffed Courtenay. “We’re not going to play. We are going to be very careful. We’re going to find a space away from trees or bush or piles of leaves. We’ll get some twigs and a few dry leaves and make a small pile. Then we put the stones around them and fill the billy with water from a nearby creek.” “We don’t have a creek,” piped up Ruff Red. “We’ll use the garden hose,” said the MOTH undeterred. “Once the fire is burning quietly we’ll put the billy on top.” Soon the children were shrieking and dancing around the tiny fire like wild things. A head poked out of a bedroom window in the house next door. “Everybody wave,” said the MOTH, raising his beer in a salute. “What now Dad, what now?” shrieked Ruff Red with excitement. “Now we add the tea leaves and give it a good stir. In 10 minutes we’ll have the most delicious tea you’ve ever tasted. Then we’ll lie on the grass, look at the stars and think about how lucky we are.” And we did. Until the mozzies arrived that is. Our children are grown up now. They have beards and babies and busy lives. They sip ristrettos, macchiatos and decaf soy lattes on the run. But when they come home they lie on the grass and the MOTH boils the billy. “It’s just an old tin,” sniffs a grandchild. “Yep. But it makes great tea,” says the MOTH. “Do you want me to show you how to use the microwave, Pop?” AWW
TO CONNECT WITH PAT ON FACEBOOK visit FACEBOOK.COM/PATMCDERMOTTAU
104 The Australian Women’s Weekly | FEBRUARY 2020
ILLUSTRATION BY MARISA MOREA @THEILLUSTRATIONROOM.COM.AU.
Family matters
