The Best Part of Waking Up

I’m nursing a head cold today. I haven’t had a head cold in a long time and I had forgotten how horrid they can be. To top it off, Grace had an early doctor’s appointment. So, in between getting myself ready, getting her ready, and wiping my nose on the back of my hand, (Hey, before you judge, have you ever tried to dress a squirmy 15 month old while your nose is running?) I didn’t have time to make coffee.
Here is a quick confession: I don’t function very well without coffee and I blame it on my grandmother and mother. When I was young, and they would sit around drinking from steaming cups that I was forbidden to touch, I developed a slight obsession with the stuff. Like any child, I wanted what I couldn’t have and would wail until somebody finally caved and I got my way. In the midst of my tantrum, someone would pour a teeny tiny bit of coffee into a fancy tea cup. As my sobs started to subside, I would watch them transform into master chemists before my very eyes, expertly measuring and adding heaping spoonfuls of sugar and milk into the black liquid, transforming it into pure heaven. After a quick taste test to make sure it was perfect, they would slide the beautiful elixir my way. Kneeling in my chair, with my elbows propped on the table, I would smile as I wrapped my hands around the luke warm cup, pulling it closer to me and inhaling the enchanting aroma. Addict, meet addiction! My fate was sealed.
These days, (if I do have time to make a pot), my coffee drinking has become much less ceremonial. I quit using sugar or sugar substitutes years back when I worked on a dairy farm and was introduced to the joys of how delicious coffee can be with just a generous splash of cream. However, in recent months, I have given up eating meat and also greatly reduced my consumption of dairy. In turn, my beloved cream had to go. Since then, I have learned that a piping hot cup of black coffee, brewed in a french press, just can not be beat. On days when I can make it through an entire cup of coffee without it going cold on me, I raise my mug in toast of caffeine fueled gratitude to Juan Valdez, my very own candy man.


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