When my mother first died I found myself hugging hot cups (very hot cups) of Earl Grey tea to me on a regular basis. I had lots of energy back then, I’d stop for a cup of hot tea and then, once I’d drained my cup, get up and get on with what needed to be done. I didn’t spend much time thinking (or grieving). I just got on. At some point in the summer I discovered the joys of evaporated milk in my coffee and put my Earl Grey tea caddy to one side. I slowed down. Now I’m grieving between cups of rich coffee thickened and whitened with my favourite new milk product. The tins are lovely to draw too…

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