I love coffee. I don’t love coffee because it wakes me up – tea does a pretty good job of that – I love coffee because there is something very romantic about cuddling up at a coffee shop, bringing a steaming hot mug (when I sit at a coffee shop I ALWAYS ask for a mug) of dark roast to my lips, and feeling the steam envelope my face as I gently blow – pursing my mouth just so. Feels like something out an old black and white film doesn’t it?
I eat that romantic stuff for breakfast. It’s my dream to live in a home with a tree in the backyard with a branch, 8 or 10 feet up, that is perfect for lounging up against with a good book – ideally one by L.M. Montgomery (I’m a huge Anne of Green Gables Fan).
I remember my very first…
View original post 263 more words