It’s been a week since Valentine’s Day — long enough for us to sweep up the last of the rose petals and, on one glorious occasion, drink a cup of tea while it was still warm.

We survived.
We delivered.
We exhaled.

Briefly.

And then someone checked the calendar.

Three weeks.

That’s all that stands between now and Mother’s Day, who decided this? We want to ask for an extension.

This is the bit people don’t see.

The shop isn’t frantic.
The phones aren’t relentless.
And the boss has started saying things like, “Plenty of time.”

Which, historically speaking, means absolutely not plenty of time.

We’re not running.

We’re simmering.

You can feel it — not as panic, not as chaos — but as that steady warmth building beneath the surface.

A collective, “Here we go again.”

We’ve done this before.
We know the rhythm.
We know the week when it tips into full steam.

But for now?

We’ve still got three weeks.

So let’s put the kettle on.

Until our next brew together, may your kettle always simmer at just the right time. ☕🌸

Thanks for reading,
The Interdelightful Crew 💫