Recent trips our local mecca of good coffee have resulted in some special memories. There was the Thursday that my beloved and I cycled into town, having deposited the young one at Holly Corner, his pre-school, to enjoy a gingerbread latte and a muffin. We had had such a hectic few days before hand that we had agreed to ignore each other and read. I kept up my side of the bargain but Budd just sat and watched me read. He assured me that he found it most relaxing. So did I for the most part although I was on occasion unnerved by his unblinking stare whenever I glanced up.
Then earlier this week my parents visited and I took them into town for afernoon tea. Dad and Frank are slap bang in the middle of a huge mutual fan club and love being together.
Dad did his rather sweet Woolly Mammoth impersonation.
Mum sat looking chic and relaxed as the boys played, laughing at Dad's antics as she has done for the 47 years of their marriage.
There is something about being somewhere warm that smells of cinnamon and coffee, with chatter and the buzzing of beans being ground as a backdrop, that brings a sense of ceremony and celebration to a cup of tea or coffee.
Colchester has embraced this and young and old can be seen all over town sipping and chatting. Frank even had a "foamy milk" yesterday in a cafe. He is three and is already aware of sprinkling cinnamon on his milk.
I love this.
He is very much a nature boy. Homemade food, low sugar, wholefoods, garden and nature play and then Babyccino!
Embracing all that is good from the past and the present can only equip him for the future.