Last weekend, I found myself crouched underneath the dining room table with a can of furniture polish and a well-worn cloth napkin, rubbing the grooves and carving that make up the pedestal. Because this is
"Five hundred twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes. How do you measure, measure a life?" -"Seasons of Life" from Rent. The song from Rent is ringing in my ears; maybe because it is so applicable to
I come by my love for tea and all that goes with it honestly - it's in my gene pool like fair skin and straight hair. It’s who I am and where I come from.
Recently I attended a small Christmas open house. During that event, I inadvertently gave away one of my secrets. Because I am afraid that the story will get around in an exaggerated form, I want