I curse the day I met the Skinny Caramel Macchiato
It all started so innocently, just four short weeks ago. It was a regular Scrapbook Cellar gathering at my sister’s home. I was heading there for a day of creative soul filling and an all out sisterhood chat fest. I was doing the Starbucks run (as I usually do), and asked my fellow creative characters if they would like one as well. And it was Peggy who did it . “I’ll have a skinny caramel macchiato, please,” she said. Skinny. Caramel. Macchiato. Three words that would change my life. Yes, this is another post about coffee, and I apologize to my faithful blog readers who are not coffee drinkers. (I apologize because really you should be coffee drinkers . . . kidding!) As I look back on my blog, I find that the subject of coffee has been written about once or twice (three times, a lady) before, and perhaps knowing that you have a problem is the first step in recovery, isn’t it? I have no problems. (Therefore, I must not be addicted, right?) Ok, back to Peggy . B...