My husband’s grandmother, Mamie, used to taste her purchased coffee with anticipation of the stunning black goodness we have all grown accustomed to. To her disappointment, she got a gulp of watered down liquid that you could see the bottom of your mug through. She would tisk, tisk shaking her head and say, “troubled water, troubled water.” Fear not! Her grandson would get her a Sanka pack from the counter to bring the poor cup of tan liquid into it’s proper hue.
Troubled water used to run in my family as well. My great, grandfather’s home was nicknamed “troubled water” for the constant issues with fresh water. There was many a flood in our family history as we learned to stay true to our hearts, to follow our guidance, and to ground ourselves…troubled water, troubled water…tisk, tisk.
We hope you get a good brew of Mattie’s Mountain Mud and that your life is sound, steady and true cause:
