It's a little, humble shop

The old men get there and fire up their ovens and deep fryers at 2am every day, save Sunday, according to the girl behind the counter. 

It's quiet, the elderly couple sitting in the picture were the only ones in the shop this morning at six o'clock, but by six thirty there will be a line out the door. When I walked in, one of the girls was already filling a large order for a local group of regulars. 

It's been a constant in my life. Those old men, who having already lived out their lives, settled into old age in a doughnut shop in a small town in Florida are the same men who made the doughnuts then, when I first tasted the sour cream glazed perfection at the age of fourteen. 

I grew up, married, had children, grew up some more, and decided to write blog posts in my spare time. All the while those men have been there, making the best doughnuts in the world.