Quencher

What's your favorite thirst quencher?

Source: tatoeba (906913)

After two in the morning, I was awake, trying to read an Interlingua book, Le torno del mundo in octanta dies, by Jules Vernes. But the lamp in the living room was too dim. I ate a few pieces of Italian round waffle-like cookies, pizzelle. I went back to sleep on the couch. Later, it was a drizzling morning, cold and clammy, this Boxing Day of 2024. I walked twice to the neighbourhood's Tim Hortons. Firstly, I ate two hash browns, whilst drinking an iced coffee with oat milk. Secondly, I ate a crispy chicken wrap with a glass of blackberry yuzu sparkling quencher. At both occasions, there were Eurasian children, and there were Filipinos that looked handsomely Japanesque. I was exercising with a hand grip strengthener at my table, as I counted to twenty in Esperanto, in each set: "unu, du, tri, kvar,..." In the afternoon, this Boxing Day of 2024, the sun came out of the clouds, the drizzle stopping for the while. An odd cabinet mirror stood by the sidewalk, so I could see my bare legs and mauve garden shoes in the reflection. I walked to Tim Hortons, there to drink an iced coffee with oat milk. The café was crowded. At night, I went back there to eat a roast beef and cheddar sandwich with an oat milk iced coffee. A brown family popped in to break the empty silence. A pensive white man said that I liked the word "blossom": Maybe, he was waiting for spring?

Source: tatoeba (12940756)

Today is the 14th of January of 2025. It was night at Time Hortons café. I ate Sea Salt Potato Wedges with Wildberry Hibiscus Lemonade Quencher. Joban the South Asian was my vendor. In the morning, I had a couple or more cups of Green Tea with Oat Milk, which, someone expressed, "tastes like ice cream." It was night at Starbucks café. I ate two Belgian Liège Waffles. The Brown Sugar Oat Cortado interestingly tasted like jackfruit. I was going to tell the Japanese-Anglo hybrid Chris the barista or Jess the Anglo barista. Money is just an inhibitor, sometimes. Money is poverty, sometimes. Life should always be sensual, a sensory wonderland. Life is ephemeral, full of fleeting experiences. Do I believe in the Akashic Records, the memory compendium about everything? The following day of the 15th, I saw Hans the Netherlander in his motorized wheelchair at Tim Hortons. We sat near the sun-drenched bay window, as we chatted and ate Sea Salt Potato Wedges. I was drinking Orange Pekoe tea with Oat Milk for a change.

Source: tatoeba (12980629)

Today's the 9th of May of 2025. All day has been grey skies. After morning Iced Coffee with oat milk at Tim Hortons café, I went walking towards the Roman Catholic church on St. Albans Road, just so I could pass by the big tree that looks like a jacaranda tree with purple blooms, but isn't a jacaranda. (The species remind me of South America.) More of the brick-like impressions on the pedestrian have been painted white, not red as I would imagine. Lulu Islanders aren't so fanciful with colours, unlike Vancouver or other cities. I went to the major worship hall, again to admire the fancy colourful stained glass. The crucifix is adorned with white fabric. At the smaller Adoration Chapel, I began to notice on the right front the Virgin Mary statue with the Child statue on her side. In the evening, I returned to the café to enjoy a Green Tea with oat milk, a Blackberry Yuzu Lemonade Quencher, and a Roast Beef Craveable Sandwich. At home, I amused myself with Korean grammar, which was a slight distraction to my core studies of Esperanto and Lojban. With StreetView, I started looking again at the streets in South Korea. Maybe, I will try more of the countryside, as I have done with Thailand. For lunch and dinner at home was noodle dishes.

Source: tatoeba (13258630)