I don’t even drink lattes.
Not espresso. Not cappuccino. Not macchiato. Not a demitasse of anything made from the coffee bean.
I’m so coffee illiterate I had to look those terms up.
Spell Check caught me. I was calling espresso expresso. Now Spell Check’s ticked off at me again. There’s an angry red line underneath my misspelling, even though I try to tell Spell Check it’s intentional this time.
Spell Check’s not having it.
Love and light — we hear so much about those qualities — I adore that about contemporary spirituality. We all seek to emanate love and light!
People sign off that way. People send love and light your way when trauma befalls you. Or when you’re just feeling blue.
I’ll send love and light if your breakfast muffin crumbles. If you corner too quickly around the house and bump into furniture. I’m lovey and lighty that way.
Love and light needs giggles, teasing, hugs. Occasional inventive foul-mouthery too, probably. Pranks, if they’re not mean-spirited. Jokes, if they’re not malicious.
Love and light needs laughter to complete it. Otherwise things get pompous fast.
. . . . .
Love, light and laughter
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