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A Spilled Tea Fog

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Sometimes it's necessary to spill the tea with some tea. Not just any tea though - juicy, sweet, special - just like a good Fog. Where tea is a Toyota Prius, a London Fog is a low-riding 1962 black Corvette with the top down with the wind in your hair as you're blasting toward a sunset in the Midwestern US.  Today the tea was spilled on a warm summer afternoon. Have you been able to tell I've entirely abandoned any timeline on my Fog posts? Time is irrelevant in Fog-world.  There's something incredibly special about having an excited conversation while gently holding a warm drink. It allows you to sit back in your chair, cross your legs, hold your hands, and listen.  Visual examples include (but are not limited to) an older therapist sitting back in their chair, whose eyes are still full of wonder despite having heard it all; a timely old grandperson adjusting their recliner to listen to their six-year-old grandchild talk endlessly about their activities at school; ...
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A Fog Who Loafes

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There's truly nothing better than the combination of a fog and a friend. If I had to choose two things to bring with me to a desert island, it would be those two things. The fog probably wouldn't do much to help with my rescue from said island - but if the fog was good enough - why would I want to leave? I have a fog, a friend, and a private desert island. Paradise.  This was my first time in Loafe - and my goodness, I love the presentation. The red just popped, and that font? Completely whimsical. If I could sign my name with such finesse, each federal tax form would be a work of art! My only thought, 'loafe'? I can't tell if it's closer to 'loaf', as in bread, or 'loafers', as in fashionable footwear. I do like the mental picture of loafing in loafers with a loaf and a loafe in hand - so I'll let it slide.  The fog within the cup fulfilled my every wish. Sweet, foamy, plentiful. It's the kind of fog that makes you feel the ground a litt...
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Fog at Home

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 No two Fogs are the same, but some are special.  Sometimes Fogs are unique because of different ingredients, maybe a different process. Other times Fogs are different because of the story of how they ended up in your hand, or how it made you feel.  This Fog did both. It was made in the early morning of a weekend day. The rain danced on the sliding doors and the warmth of the soft lights in the kitchen could make anyone feel at home. The Fog was made by someone who cared, and someone who knew it would make me happy. It was made with freshly frothed milk from the espresso machine I'll always remember the sound of, with brown sugar stirred in and teaspoons of real vanilla splashed. The mug was one I actually gave as a gift, only to have it given to me now warm and alive.  I sipped my Fog and smiled at its creator. I felt warm on every front. The Fog was as soft as that feeling, I just hoped it wouldn't ever go away.  9/10 Fog. 
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