Today, a friend and former colleague purchased my 20 x 30-inch painting My Daughter's Dress. Carol had been looking at it on my website for a while, and told me "there was something about it".
Today, as she looked at the real thing, the sweetest smile crossed her face. "What?" I asked. "It makes me feel happy," she answered. That was the greatest reward. We had a fun visit. She brought a lemon loaf she made, still warm from the oven and tasting like real fresh lemons, and I made tea in a teapot no less -- strong, with milk. I remembered the milk! Usually tea drinkers know me well enough to bring their own milk because I don't use it since I'm a coffee (black, no sugar drinker). And even though I know they're coming here, I forget to get the milk!! Today I remembered. Luckily she likes her tea the way I do: it has to be orange pekoe (I got Typhoo), "stewed", strong, if there's going to be any milk in it. British-style.
The milk I consume is yogurt, ice cream, buttermilk, sour cream, whipping cream, cheeses. Like that. I have never liked the taste of plain milk -- it makes me gag.