This morning I was up and out by 9 o’clock for an appointment which is a novelty as some days I’m not even awake by then. Even worst than the early hour was I didn’t even have time for coffee. A day without morning coffee is a catastrophe. To add to the misery a coffee-less me is groggy and snarly. Let the world beware. Luckily, though, Gracie and I weren’t gone long so when we got home, I grabbed my papers, ran inside and got the coffee brewing. I watched it for a while in anticipation.
I don’t remember when I started drinking coffee. Cocoa was my morning drink of choice when I was a kid. I haven’t ever been a tea drinker except when I was sick and my mother gave it to me as a cure-all. I’m guessing it was in college when I started drinking coffee. Late night cramming sessions needed a stimulus and cup after cup of coffee worked.
My father was an indiscriminate coffee drinker. He even liked instant. My mother had Coke in the morning and only wanted coffee if she had a biscotti to dunk. One sister is a chai drinker while my other sister drinks coffee. I introduced my coffee drinking sister to cappuccino, and she is forever grateful.
I don’t like flavored coffee. I call them girly coffees. I like my coffee strong, not so strong a spoon can stand upright or not strong enough to grow hair on your chest, a phrase my mother used which I find myself saying now and then, but coffee needs to be bold.
I did drink that horrific instant coffee in Ghana because that’s all they had. When I went back forty years later, I was hoping for real coffee but instant is still all there is, Nescafé. Ghana is a nation of tea drinkers. In Morocco I came to like their mint tea and the ceremonial pouring of it from high above the decorated glass. I even brought back a set of glasses.
The last few nights have been chilly, and I have had a cup of coffee each night. It’s not yet at the put your hands around the cup to get warm season, but that’s coming soon enough.
It is a peek-a-boo with the sun day.
keepthecoffeecoming.blog 