For a while, whenever anyone asked me what I blogged about, I would explain that I was a Canadian food blogger who cooked everything with a lot of maple syrup. It was supposed to be a joke (a bad one, but still).
Some people thought I was serious though and became confused when they saw that not all of my recipes had maple syrup in them. I ended up taking down any maple syrup references a few weeks ago.
A big mug sat in front of me, lemon seeds dotting the surface. Sugar crystals lay beside the mug, spilled onto the table despite my deliberate watchfulness to not spill any. It wasn’t as much carefulness as prolonging the time until I would have to touch my lips to the concoction in front of me. The brown mug, covered with spider-vein like cracks held a drink that I despised: tea.
Almost every morning, for fourteen years, I was faced with a mug of tea. It was the reason that I didn’t want to get out of bed. It was a jolt of caffeine that tasted like water. I can understand why people drink coffee, but tea? I wasn’t a big fan. The black leaves that sat in the bottom of the cup, like bitter shreds of confetti, were avoided at all costs as I took sips from the cup.
I’m part of the science club at my school and a few days ago we went to Guelph University for a science competition.
In one of the events that I was signed up for, contestants had to assemble a human foot using “clone bones” with the help of a diagram. Thirty or so bones were laid out in front of each team on a blue mat. My team was competing against three other teams. A few minutes before we began one of the volunteer supervisors asked everyone to put their phones in their pockets.
