Florida 2013. A small, quaint tea room not far from Orlando. I can't remember the name, but I can still picture it. Set in a w hite, clapboard Victorian-era house with a run-around porch. Small wobbly tables with white lacy tablecloths. And lots of kitsch-y nicknacks. All just perfect for an inquisitive 18 month old toddler to explore (in no way is that true). This was in the days before Sweet, when I was still in the depths of depression following the loss of my mum and trying to claw my way out. Our family holiday had been booked for over a year. We felt we should still go, as it would have been very difficult to disappoint the two oldest. I spent nearly two weeks looking after Sam, while the others did the rides. It was fine - no complaints here. But one of the things I wanted to do - insisted on - was to find somewhere off the beaten tourist route that could serve up a slice of authentic key lime pie. We ventured south from Orlando in hot and humid August sunshine and pitc
because everyone deserves a little sweetness in their life