Earth Apple

I feel as though when I do not blog regularly that when I do return I should share something profound and eloquent. But this evening I am simply overcome by the joy of a good cup of tea. I opened the packet of chamomile and was instantly thrust back to summer camp where dear sheila would drug us so we would not be up all night. There is something so familiar and safe about camomile, maybe because it will always make me feel like I am sitting in Sheila's parlor with Sheila and Bri, reading aloud as we knit and crochet. The tea is seeping as I write.
Good Evening.

P.s. the weird thing we are doing with our hands... that is how many cups of tea we had in that sitting. Yep and you can only guess how many bathroom trips that was.