I drew “sweet tea” while thinking of my Granddaddy. He was more than a grandparent. He was a dear friend. He is in glory now, but here on earth he loved to feed people. When you sat at his simple table you knew it was an expression of his love. He always served sweet tea. That amber drink was as sweet as his smile when he met you on his back porch when you came to visit. He had fresh peppermint growing behind his shed and he would let me pick some. I still think of him and his rough hands anytime I see or smell fresh peppermint.