April Fool’s has come and gone. This is not a prank. I need you to understand that before you keep reading, because what I am about to tell you is going to sound like one.

We have officially completed one full year of this beautifully unhinged experiment, and to celebrate entering Year Two, I owe you all a confession. I have a problem.

Somehow, against all odds and postal delays, we made it: BAMS Tea Club has officially been steeping for a full year.

First off—yes, this month’s letter is late. And yes, it was absolutely because of the polar vortex. (And by “polar vortex,” I obviously mean not at all the fact that I got busy, forgot, and then panicked when I saw the tea still sitting on my desk.). Let’s blame the weather. It’s safer that way.

This month, we’re taking a slight detour through time—back to cobbled paths, turkey legs the size of your forearm, and the faint sound of someone shouting “HUZZAH!” in the distance. Because your Tea Master recently went on a noble quest… to the Texas Renaissance Festival.

We made it through spooky season—kind of. Let’s be honest, October didn’t deliver on the full haunted aesthetic. Not enough fog. Not enough vibes. So, what are we doing? We’re skipping straight to the warm spices and leaning all the way into holiday mode, early-access edition. And what better way to soft launch the holidays than with a tea that smells like gift wrap and tastes like cinnamon nostalgia?

The shadows are long, the air is crisp, and something stirs in your mailbox… It’s time for the Spooky Season Steep, and this month, we’re embracing the cozy chaos of fall with a blend that smells like October wrapped itself in a scarf and moved into your kitchen.

September’s tea is inspired by the purest expression of emotional meltdown ever animated: Tanjiro Kamado, exhausted and starving, slamming face-first into the dirt while crying, “And I want high-quality gyokuro tea!”

This month’s pick? It’s… divisive. It’s dramatic. It’s walking into a room wearing too much cologne.

This month, we’re making a shift. Not a big one, but a deliberate one. You see, while Harney & Sons has been the backbone of our tea journey (and a frequent flyer in your mailboxes), July calls for something a little different.

This month’s selection is less “surprise tea roulette” and more sentimental flashback, so bear with me while I get a little nostalgic (but not like, feelings-nostalgic—we’re not monsters).

You probably thought May’s tea would be something floral, didn’t you? Like, “Ooooh it’s spring! Let’s do lavender-chamomile with dried rose petals and name it after a woodland fairy.”