Tazo purrs like a Tribble. We let him in for breakfast because it is a nippy 48 outside and he (Who am I kidding? He spells I) was cold.
So we (that’s us, not the royal we) are enjoying this sweet, stout, rich, chocolately cup with a little swish of milk and a little scrap of peace. Again, this is not what one expects with a typical breakfast tea. It far surpasses those sleepy expectations.
Then…off to my 10-year-old bundles of mayhem. One of them, last week, demonstrated his skills in forward somersaulting, backward somersaulting, cabinet climbing, table diving, and chair balancing. Rough family life. He needs a lot of love. I’m praying for an ample supply of it.