The title of this blog refers to an often repeated ritual at home with my parents when I was younger, whereby my mother would offer all those within earshot a cuppa…before promptly forgetting that the thought had even crossed her mind. I’m a little bit English (literally and figuratively) in that even if it was never made, the ‘promise’ that tea was coming was always just that little bit wonderful and soothing…
…almost as soothing as the first little sip of it.
Anticipation is wonderful, you see.
