An Eighth Shot of Espresso: Coffee and Creativity on Mum's Third Shift

(Picture of me strumming a small lyre (6 string+ drone string) at the Carolina Renaissance Faire) Strum the strings invoke the singers of long ago the weight of history all condensed into song an epic tale  told in front of the fire and let the audience sit there, mesmerized by stories of brave warriors and wise wizards who stand in the shadow of the darkness of a cold, cruel world. Let the melody take you on a path where the righteous have already trod and inspire you  to forge your own path where the bards can sing of your legacy.

Step through the gates into a different world. Knights in full armor charging on their noble steeds Pirates of all stripes eye patches and parrots hook hands and peg legs The pious monks in brown habits the ladies under delicate parasols trailing velvet dress trains in the dirt The occasional satyr and faun and the glittering fairy wings Hold a massive turkey leg in one hand and tankard of grog in the other. The fire eater takes the stage and the minstrels wander around with lutes and harps and violins in hand. Tarot readers and fortunetellers tea houses and coffee places or even champagne and mimosas. Crafters and their wares Haunted castles and plague doctors Lords and Ladies, knaves and rogues all are welcome from dawn till dusk.