My playground love. With his blue eyes and boyish smile. With his barefoot habit in the winter and his cute front teeth.
Yes, Caravan is just like this. A slice of home outside a home. A slice of time that’s long gone. And perhaps – for the right-nowness – a slice of a cornbread that’s so moist, it reminds me of the French toast we cooked on the embers of the bonfire we’d made the night before to keep us warm under the stars.
Tea made me discover the roastery on a day of early June. And for this, I’m forever thankful.