If nothing else, other than my faith and husband, I cannot survive without tea. British tea. With milk. No sugar.
I can sacrifice a lot. A lot. But not tea.
The electric kettle is on again, as the pot is brewing, but will need a top-up. Eleven years in Yorkshire still dwells deep within me, within all my family. The need for a cuppa remains, as does a shout-out for Team GB!
(Photo is from 2006, when we still lived in Yorkshire, the full compliment of afternoon tea courtesy Emma Bridgewater pottery made for Betty’s cafe, Morrison’s scones and clotted cream, Betty’s jam and cake.)