The heart of a Texas kitchen reveals itself at sunrise—a calm settles along the worn boards, and the scent of steeping tea signals a new day. On the counter, pouches tied with twine promise more than flavor; they summon memory. Morning light pools across a farmhouse table while water pours gently over loose leaves, coaxing notes of blueberry or chocolate from each hand-packed blend. Moments like this shaped Lisa's journey—watching steam curl above porcelain mugs shared across

A Weatherford morning greets you with the hush of pale sun against farmhouse windows and the scent of something stirring in the kitchen. The kettle sounds its whistle—bright, insistent—while fingers trace the familiar twine on a fresh tin from Texas Comfort Tea Co. Crack open the lid, and the air blooms: notes of orchard fruit, chocolate, or just-mown hay settle over worn pine boards and chipped mugs waiting on the counter. In small towns like ours, ritual sits in every corne