Oh I just saw that phrase on Twitter. I immediately thought of Joanna Cannon - doctor-writer who sat in her car in the car park of the hospital in which she works to write her novel "The Trouble With Goats and Sheep". Naturally she was accompanied by a flask of tea.
I have yet to read the book. I am like a child waiting for Christmas over this book. If it is in the smallest bit like the writing on her blog it is going to be excellent. Certainly a lot of other people think it is excellent.
And now she is back to writing another one - in the same way as before.It is what writers do. They write things down. They drink tea. They write more things down. They drink more tea...or sometimes coffee.
I scribble down ideas inside my head when I am out pedalling my tricycle. People complain that I don't wave back to them when they pass me in their cars. I don't always notice them. I'm sorry. I don't mean to be rude. One part of my mind is very firmly on the road and other road users. I am very conscious of what those driving cars are doing. I anticipate what they are likely to do - at least, I hope I do. It would be dangerous if I didn't. But I am also almost certainly thinking about something like the conversation between Robbie and his grandmother - or rather, the lack of it. In a way I am drinking tea.
I still don't know what happens next. I have only the vaguest idea. I have to be patient. I know Robbie will get around to telling me - when he's ready.
And there is actual tea involved in this chapter. It is because of tea that something happens. This time the making of tea has a purpose.
"Go and make tea," Robbie told me.
"The tea can make itself," I told him, "You don't write about making the tea, or drinking it or anything else like that."
"Yes, you do. This time you do. It's important."
"Yes. You'll find out."
And I found out.
No, tea does not make itself.