I'm sitting here this morning with a cup of hot, sweet tea...
I love a good cup of tea.
With apple butter.
The water came to a screaming boil, and was promptly moved by offspring who can't stand screaming.
This is very hot water.
Tazo. Awake. Good tea.
A good healthy dash of agave nectar....
A touch of milk...
And two ice cubes. While I make the toast.
Gluten free, rice flour, never tried this before, but it's good! It's delicious!
With apple butter. Oh, I love apple butter!
Apple butter makes me think of my grandfather, PeePop.
PeePop, because the oldest cousin couldn't pronounce PopPop when she was a tiny girl.
PeePop knew how to enjoy apple butter, and he taught us:
A half inch thick on the bread.
Half inch, got it?
Well, who are we to argue with the grandpa?
And so this morning, I savour tea, like my British aunt (on my mother's side) used to enjoy, and with it I eat toast and apple butter, like my father's father used to enjoy.
And my solitary moment is a reflection of my heritage.
(linked to LL Barkat's "On, In, and Around Mondays" )