A Love Letter to a Pot of Tea and a Scone
Apr. 4th, 2012 06:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
impulsereaderThis concept is where our friends who live in Scotland, Ireland, and England have got it completely right. A pot of tea, lovingly providing me with two and a half cups of delightfully aromatic nectar, each of which I must be careful to fully blow cool before I begin sipping - I did actually typo that as shipping the first time - absolutely seduces me into taking a leisurely break with it. In america my paramour would be a bottled beverage, easily capped and taken along for the ride - the little tart.
And the loveliness of a scone! How can I possibly do this justice? Carefully cut in two, butter first, then jam carefully applied; the best lover striving mightily to carefully apportion exactly equally these tokens of love between halves. There is no possible american equivalent, our toast comes pre-buttered - as if it has been cheating on us.
Tea, I love you.
Scone, I adore you with a passion despite knowing how many calories you contain.
Love,
impulsereader
And the loveliness of a scone! How can I possibly do this justice? Carefully cut in two, butter first, then jam carefully applied; the best lover striving mightily to carefully apportion exactly equally these tokens of love between halves. There is no possible american equivalent, our toast comes pre-buttered - as if it has been cheating on us.
Tea, I love you.
Scone, I adore you with a passion despite knowing how many calories you contain.
Love,
impulsereader