That's the way I feel about working with the editors of The Local Palate. Not only are they communicative, supportive and quality-driven, the assignments from them are my version of a free Ferris wheel ride. In other words, it feels like fun a lot more than it feels like work.
Case in point: my latest feature article in this month's issue. It's on tea. That's right. The stuff I receive for gifts, that is in my SIGG bottle instead of water, that pretty much fuels my day.
This assignment was to write specifically about Sweet Tea (capital letters required). And no, not sweetened tea. Sweet Tea.
Bill Hall drove me around the tea plantation on a golf cart one early spring afternoon, my pulse already slowed by the drive out to the island through live oak shadows and sun on marsh reaching almost to the asphalt. Bill was generous with his time, had the most fascinating way he rolled his own cigarettes, and fed two farm cats while we visited. We looked at baby tea leaves and talked about London in the early 70s, and it was a good day.
It made me dream of warmer weather and summer and sipping in the sweetness. And look, it's here -- drink it in.
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