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Confession: Martha is actually me…or my hairdresser.
My hairdresser had two different pots of exotic herbal tea going while I was having my hair cut. Part way through my cut she ducked into the kitchen and brought out the most beautiful Chinese teapot and a small handleless cup.
Then, amongst the hairdryers and overhead sounds of indie, she poured the tea for me in the most delicate way. It was ceremony.
We both agreed that the tea was more important than the hair on that day.