Posted tagged ‘coffee’

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“I love to talk about nothing. It’s the only thing I know anything about.”

March 30, 2014

The rain started yesterday afternoon. It rained all night and is still raining. At times the rain is heavy, noisy as it pelts the windows and falls on the roof. I find the noise comforting. It isn’t the silence of falling snow.

I have never liked Jello. Its gelatinous consistency has always been off-putting, even when I was a kid. The worst is Jello with fruit suspended in the jell. For some reason it reminds me of an alien attack and stun guns. Give me chocolate pudding and tapioca any time.

I don’t remember when I first started drinking coffee. I think it’s been a morning ritual the whole of my life. Nothing beats a good, hot cup of coffee, but I’ll even drink bad coffee rather than none at all. Ghana has bad coffee, but I still drank it for two years and two return trips. I always found coffee shops everywhere else in my travels. In Italy I drank cappuccino after dinner. It was my favorite way to end a meal.

I used to wear panty hose, nice shoes and dresses to work every day. I even changed my earrings to match my outfits. This summer will be the tenth anniversary of my retirement. I haven’t worn panty hose in all that time. No event is important enough to warrant panty hose.

I don’t eat tuna salad. When I was growing up, we couldn’t eat meat on Fridays so mostly my mother made tuna fish sandwiches for our lunch boxes. Once in a while it was egg salad but mostly tuna. Even if we got a sub on after pay-day Fridays, it was always tuna. I added pickles, onion and hot pepper to jazz up mine. They only helped a little. I figure during that time I ate enough tuna to last me a lifetime.

I love roast turkey. I buy one every now and then and eat it for about a week. I have it straight from the bird the first few days with all the trappings: mashed potatoes, stuffing, a vegetable or two, cranberry sauce and gravy. I then start having sandwiches with cut turkey, stuffing and cranberry sauce. I use mayonnaise to hold it all together. I make turkey salad next and have it for a lunch for a few days. Finally I throw the carcass into a huge pan, boil it for a while, strip it of meat, add veggies and make turkey soup. I freeze some for later. A turkey is forever.

In a bit, Gracie and I will brave the elements to do a couple of errands. Sadly for her, I am forgoing the dump trip because of the rain. She’s asleep and won’t notice.

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“In football everything is complicated by the presence of the opposite team.”

January 19, 2014

The sun is just arriving after being away a few days. I can even see blue sky. But if the weatherman is correct, neither will last long. The temperature is only 31˚ and snow flurries are predicted. I’m not sure if it’s a breeze or a wind. All the dead leaves and the smaller branches are blowing. Even with the sunlight, the day isn’t inviting.

This afternoon I’ll be watching the Pats and the Broncos. It will be 62˚ in Colorado at game time. That doesn’t seem right somehow. Football is a cold weather sport. There should be snow and breath you can see. You know I will be cheering for my Pats. I don’t mind the Broncos, but I don’t like Peyton Manning and never have. Something about him grates on me. My Colorado family didn’t like him either when he quarterbacked the Colts. Now he is their poster boy. Wishy washy!

Sometimes I get a bit nostalgic and watch black and white television programs on Cozi, a fairly recent channel to the line-up. The other day I watched The Lone Ranger and Robin Hood with Richard Greene. The opening 0f Robin Hood with the music and the arrow flying through the air with a whooshing sound is still a great opening. I even watched a little of The Real McCoys, but I could take only a little. Grandpappy Amos just didn’t make it for me.

Today is change the litter and do laundry day. I can’t think of two worse chores around the house.

I just made a new pot of coffee. While I was waiting, I took a gander out the kitchen window. It is finch day at the feeders. Both gold finches and house finches vie for space on three different feeders. All of the feeders are swaying. It is a wind, not a breeze.

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“One of the most glorious messes in the world is the mess created in the living room on Christmas day. Don’t clean it up too quickly.”

December 21, 2013

Bedtime was around 1:30, and now I’m up, and it’s still dark. My newspapers aren’t even here yet, but I’ve had my first cup of coffee, always the best way to start a day. My trees are lit in the living room. That was the first thing I did.

Nothing is on my agenda for today except maybe laundry, kind of makes me look forward to the day. As if…

The house was warm when I woke up, 66˚, even though the thermostat was set at 62˚for nighttime. When I let Gracie out, I found outside also unexpectedly warm, especially for a dark morning in December. Yesterday the high was 54˚ so I did a couple of errands so I could enjoy the day. I bought dinner, and it was delicious: steak kabobs with peppers and onions and roasted rosemary potato wedges. For dessert I had a couple of peanut butter balls my sister had made from my mother’s recipe. They are a Christmas tradition. My mother would make a huge batch and freeze some of them so in February she’d surprise us by bringing them out for dessert. They never lasted too long at Christmas or in February.

When I was in elementary school, the church fair was always a week or two before Christmas. It was in the auditorium at the town hall, a short walk from school. Fair day was always a half-day. At dismissal we’d walk in twos, class by class, with the nuns accompanying us. Once at the town hall we were free. The Christmas fair was a huge occasion, and my mother always gave us money to shop and to buy lunch, usually hot dogs. I remember the best table in the fair was the kids’ table. It was the place to Christmas shop as it was filled with inexpensive gifts for us to buy for our families. I’d walk round and round the table picking up and putting down gifts always trying to find just the right presents. After I did, I’d hand them to the woman behind the counter, somebody’s mother as the fair was run by the mother’s club. She’d bag them, collect my money then hand the precious bags to me. That usually signaled the end of the fair for me. I’d walk home with my gifts and hide them in my room, usually under the bed or in the closet. I’d take them out of their secret hiding place several times to check on them until finally I’d wrap them. I made sure to use lots of paper and tape. I was always so proud of those gifts.

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“Oh, hon, it’s the little courtesies that make life bearable, I find, wouldn’t you agree?”

July 26, 2013

Last night the rain started, kept up all night and has just now stopped. This morning, during what my mother would have called a deluge, Gracie and I went out. Between the house and the car, a short distance, I got soaked. Now you’re probably thinking why didn’t this fool use an umbrella or at least a jacket. Well, the umbrella is in the car, and I didn’t even give the jacket a thought. Gracie and I just ran. She got in first. By the time I did, my shirt was soaked, and I was already cold. Why did I go out in the middle of a Noah rain you might be wondering? I needed a blood test, a fasting blood test, and I wanted it over as quickly as possible as my body was screaming for its morning coffee. I was dressed and on the road ten minutes after I woke up. I go to a lab that never seems to have any other people so I was in and out in five minutes, got even wetter running back to the car and right away headed to Dunkin’ Donuts. The line at the drive-up window was long, but it was fast. I got two cups of a coffee and a lemon donut, my treat to myself for getting the errand done and for being soaked. The first things I did when I got home were to change into dry clothes and take a towel to Gracie.

This is the first rain in weeks, and it was a good one. I even had to shut windows last night as it was so chilly and damp. The paper predicts today will be rainy on and off. I’m going nowhere!

I am on a rampage of late. Sometimes I wish I had a cow catcher on the front of my car. I’d use it to move the cars in front of me going around 20 or 25. The driver is usually a gawker who looks to the left and right, never behind. I let people out into traffic all the time, especially those crossing into the other lane. A few wave and thank me. Others just go as if the space I had made was a God-given right of passage. Common courtesy is becoming rarer and heading toward extinction. Because of my surgery, I had to give up 4 seats, two each to two different theaters: one theater’s two seats weren’t super expensive but the other two were, over $60.00 each. I didn’t ask for any money, After all, I had already paid for the season tickets, but a thank you would have been a nice gesture. Not one person bothered to do that. The other day I got cut off by a car coming out of a side street. Sometimes that’s the only way to get on the road here in the summer, but not this time. There wasn’t a single car behind me. A wait of about 5 seconds was all the driver would have needed. I guess that was way too long to wait.

The other day I told a person, “You’re welcome,” after I had held the door for him because his arms full of packages, and he was walking away. He muttered, “Thank you,” under his breath, a coerced response, but I’m hoping he’ll pass it along, this small bit of courtesy.

My mother taught me to be courteous when I was little. Please and thank you were the first lessons. I’m wishing for a resurgence.

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“…at morning, I’m unruffled – I’ll sit with my tea and Muse Cat beside me and listen to the soft chime of the grandfather clock…”

April 22, 2013

The sun streaming through the front door is hot. Fern has taken possession of the rug in front of the door and is, as usual, sprawled in the sun. Maddie and Gracie are here on the couch with me. Gracie is having her morning nap. After all, she has been awake for a couple of hours and must be exhausted. Maddie just wants a few pats.

All of us have morning rituals. Fern and Gracie sleep on my bed so when I wake up, they jump up and wish me a good morning. Gracie wags her tiny Boxer tail so much I expect it to become a rotor and for her tail end to take flight the way a helicopter does. If my morning ever becomes a cartoon, that’s exactly what would happen. Fern rolls all over the bed and sometimes has to grab the sheet or she’d roll right off. I pat her and she bumps me with her head to let me know she expects more. After the morning greetings are done, I feed the cats and Gracie and I go downstairs. Maddie is usually on the table in the sun. She gets her morning pats after which I let Gracie out and put on the coffee then I go outside to get the papers, and most mornings I stop to admire the new flowers. This morning there were two yellow and white daffodils which had just bloomed. After admiring my garden for a while, I go back inside, fill Gracie’s dry food dish so she can munch during the day, leave two biscuits in her crate then grab my coffee and go into the den to read the papers. That is my morning just about every single day except Sunday when I go out to breakfast, the only break in my routine.

Soon enough it will be warm, and I’ll be on the deck with my coffee and papers. Gracie will take her morning nap spread out on the lounge, and I’ll stop and watch the birds at the feeders. Sometimes I bring my laptop outside where I’ll write Coffee.

I love my mornings.

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“The odds of going to the store for a loaf of bread and coming out with only a loaf of bread are three billion to one.”

October 12, 2012

Today was an unexpected sleep in late day. I won’t even admit what time it was when I finally crawled out of bed. Because I had no cream, the dog and I, as soon as we came downstairs, went to Dunkin’ Donuts to buy my morning coffee. Good thing they have a drive-up as I didn’t even bother to get dressed.

As soon as the sun goes down, it gets cold now, a lingering cold, the sort you know is here to stay. Tonight is supposed to be in the 30’s, yup, I said the 30’s. This morning, during my jaunt, the sun was out, but it has since disappeared and has left us with a gray, ugly day, the sort of day which invites coziness and a good book, but, alas, I do have to go out to get the cream for my coffee.

My mailbox will soon disappear. Everyday the pole on which it sits sinks further into the ground weighed down by the   catalogs my mailman has to deliver day in and day out, but, luckily, this is a rural route so Bob, my mailman, has a truck which is a good thing as I figure most of his route, maybe even much of the world, is being inundated by catalogs. Yesterday there were twelve catalogs in my mailbox. Three of them had threats, “This is your last catalog unless you order;” however, I am undaunted by these threats. Go ahead, stop my catalogs. I dare you!!

I admit some catalogs make me salivate. William Sonoma and Crate and Barrel are two of them. I also love Napa Style and VivaTerra. I look through each of them and make a mental list of what I’d buy if I had money and room for all the purchases. I even turn down the corners of the pages so I can go back and be tempted.

Back when we were kids we only needed one catalog, the king of catalogs: the Sears Catalog. It had everything anyone ever needed. I always thought it had a bit of magic about it. From its toys pages came our lists for Santa, including catalog numbers so Santa would have no doubt exactly what we wanted. We looked through those pages so many times they got wrinkled and dirty, but we still looked over and over again. Maybe we’d changed our minds or just maybe we might have missed something the first ten or twelve times we looked through those pages.

 

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“A clever cook can make good meat of a whetstone.”

September 30, 2012

The rain continues. It stopped yesterday for most of the day, but the sky never cleared and the dampness never went away. I don’t know when the rain started up again last night, but it was steady when I woke up. I could hear it falling on the roof. I thought my bed perfectly cozy, but I reluctantly got up, dragged myself downstairs, made coffee and went outside to get the papers.

Yesterday I went to pick up a few things at the store, and that was my singular accomplishment for the entire day. I didn’t even make my bed. The animals got fed, and I had hummus for lunch and an egg sandwich for dinner so none of us starved.

When I was growing up, Sunday dinner was always the highlight of the week as it was the one meal when roast beef might just be the main course. The rest of the week was chicken or hamburger and the hot dogs I mentioned yesterday. My mother was a whiz at hamburger. She cooked it so many different ways. Her American chop suey was a favorite as was her hamburger with bean sprouts and soy sauce served over chow mein noodles. I don’t think that dish has a name. We always thought it was Chinese food. My mother made the best meat loaf, and we loved it frosted with mashed potatoes which were then browned in the oven. Other times she’d put ketchup and then bacon on the top. She had to make sure there was enough bacon for all of us or a fight would ensue, one of yelling not punching. We ate a lot of hamburger, a cheap way to feed 4 kids, but we never realized how often. All the meals seemed different and they were our favorites.

No meal, according to my father, was complete without potatoes, usually mashed potatoes, though once in a while my mother would bake them, but because we didn’t like the skins, we only dug a little so most times we left a lot of potato behind. My favorite was the mashed potatoes with peas as the vegetable. I tolerated wax and yellow beans, French green beans and carrots.

When I was leaving for Peace Corps training, my mother asked me what I’d like for our last meal together for a long while. I asked for roast beef, gravy, mashed potatoes and peas, a Sunday dinner, a family dinner.

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“O’ how full of briers is this working-day world.”

July 20, 2012

Most mornings I’m finished with writing Coffee by now and have gotten on with my day, but not this morning. I woke up late, had three cups of coffee and just took my time reading the papers. It has to do with the weather. Today is cool. It will be in the mid-70’s and will stay cool for the next couple of days. Today is also dark. The sun is hidden behind a cloudy sky. I think it’s a wonderful day.

I had to figure the day of the week when I woke up. Usually I have a Wednesday play which helps give definition to the week, but I didn’t have one this week so I am a bit discombobulated. Because I watch the Red Sox most nights, I don’t have favorite shows on certain nights to help me keep track. I guess in the long run it doesn’t really matter what day it is.

When I was in college, I worked every summer at the post office in Hyannis. Back then Hyannis was a sectional center which meant all the mail was filtered through there so they hired a lot of summer temps. I was a mail sorter. I sat on this weird stool which was tilted toward the mail sorting boxes, and I wore a rubber thumb to help me sort one envelope at a time. I had my own rubber thumb given to me when I first started, and I was warned not to lose it. That should have given me a hint about working in the post office, but it didn’t. At first they had me working the general mail which just meant sorting the mail into states or cities. It was the easiest board, as they called the sorting stations, to work. I had such a good memory that I was also sent to work the Boston station board sorting into towns around the city. I worked Massachusetts which divided the general mail into cities and towns, and I worked Illinois and Ohio. I never did understand why we broke those last two into towns. Working in the PO was about the most boring job I ever had, just sitting and sorting from noon to nine. Once in a while I’d get to cancel the mail and I always enjoyed that, especially the postcards as they were so thin a bunch would slide through the canceling machine all at once. Whenever I’d find a postcard all filled out and stamped but without an address, I’d sent it to a friend. None of them ever mentioned those odd people who sent them postcards. The best time of the night was when we had to tie out for the 9 o’clock pick-up. That meant every piece of first class mail had to go on trucks to Boston. We literally tied each bundle from each slot on the boards using two elastics and then each bundle got an identifying destination on a paper wedged under the elastics. That was hectic emptying all the boards, but it was the only time I had fun working there.

The last time I worked in the PO was the summer before my senior year in college. At the end of that summer, I was actually offered a full-time job starting after Labor Day. I didn’t laugh or snort or breakout in hysterical laughter. I just said no thank you.

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“Morning is wonderful. Its only drawback is that it comes at such an inconvenient time of day.”

July 2, 2012

Monday still carries a bit of gloom about it even though I’ve been retired for so long. The Monday horror of the alarm abruptly pulling me from dreamland after two glorious days of sleeping in, the tiny Monday papers and the start of yet another work week dissipates slowly. It took 35 years for the weekday resentment to build, and the older I got, the more difficult  it was to drag myself out of bed. I loved my job but, on Mondays, I loved it the least.

I am not a morning person. I love the late nights when I am the only one awake, and everything is quiet. When all the houses around me are dark, I feel as if the night is mine. I’d probably be a great vampire if they really existed. I’d have no problem sleeping all day; however, the biting and the blood would be drawbacks. In Ghana, I actually liked the mornings and didn’t need an alarm clock. The roosters worked just as well, maybe even better as they didn’t need electricity or batteries. It was in the mornings when my school compound came most alive. I could hear the swishing sounds of brooms as students cleaned and swept the grounds then I’d hear the water from the taps splashing into their buckets and the clangs as the students hauled their buckets to the stalls where they’d take their bucket baths. Little kids walked by on their to the primary school and greeted me as I sat outside to drink my coffee. The morning air was always the sweetest and the coolest.

I love mornings in other places, wherever I travel.  I remember Santa Fe and getting to the square early in the morning where I sat and drank my coffee and  watched the Indians set up their wares in front of the Governor’s Palace. I watched store owners sweep the walks in front of their establishments and realized sweeping is a universal. In Portugal I watched trucks unloading fish and produce in front of shops and stores. I ate fresh rolls and drank strong coffee as I walked. Most places are best seen in the early morning when people are going about their business and the day is unfolding.

 

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“Today a new sun rises for me; everything lives, everything is animated, everything seems to speak to me of my passion, everything invites me to cherish it”

August 15, 2011

Today is one of those days which comes around every now and then. It’s gently raining, a cool breeze is blowing, and I can hear the swish of the leaves as the branches wave back and forth. The birds are singing right beside my window. The animals are so deeply sleeping I can hear their breathing. My coffee was perfectly brewed. During my shower I noticed I had lost an earring during the night. I went looking but couldn’t find it. My guess is it fell under the bed, and I’ll need a flashlight to see it. I did find the back which I usually never find. I was a bit put out as I like the earrings, but I let it go and went looking for another pair in my bureau drawer in boxes where I hardly look. It took me the longest time to go through the boxes as many of the earring had memories attached, and I just sat and let the memories wash over me. There was a pair of golden cable cars my dad had brought back from San Francisco. In one box was a Christmas gift card signed by Santa, something my mother always did. Each Christmas she gave the three of us new earrings, and that year I had tucked away the card. The antique cameo earrings my mother also gave me one Christmas were there. I remember how pleased she was that I loved them so much. I went through everything in that drawer. It took me about forty minutes. The time was so well worth the memories.

I came downstairs. The house was dark the way I like it on rainy days when it feels as it the house is keeping me close and warm. I set the coffee brewing and went to get the papers. It was raining just a bit. When I came in, I got a cup of coffee, turned on the light in the den and read the papers. I did both crossword puzzles and the cryptogram. They seemed easy today. Playing in the background was my Joni Mitchell Pandora station, and all the songs were exactly right.

I am staying home today because I can’t think of a better place to be. Today is perfect.

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