The icemaker is churning out cubes like mad, trying to keep up with the ridged brewing deadlines that I have established as part of my weekly routine. All this would be impossible, mind you, without the tireless work of The Iced Tea Pot by Mr. Coffee. I'm not sure how people used to make iced tea, but I think it involved a double boiler, a paper bag, and a couple dozen peeled potatoes. It must have been a real chore. Akin to washing laundry at the watering hole, churning butter, picking cotton, bailing hay, mining for coal, or making the bed.
Iced tea is the essential thirst-quencher.
The walk-in freezer was mainly to cool me down, but it was also a pretty good place to hide in case someone was looking for me. I drink more iced tea than Jamie does. Not that it's a contest. But if it were, I would be winning. You don't know what it's like to drink a lot of iced tea until your tongue feels raw, your breath reeks of tealeaves, and you have to stop writing pointless stories to use the restroom at least three times.