Morning Coffee
How do you like yours ?
Hot strong sweet and creamy, best served in a hand made mug… in bed on the weekends with a dash of Baileys and a good read (or good company).
One strong cup a day ~ the vital awakening life-force for this human !
It is rare I’ll have a second cup. So I stick to my trusted formula, hot, strong, sweet and creamy. I also like the handmade mug, this one made by me, no it’s not a fly, its a bee to match the honey glaze, a nice big heavy cup that fits in my hand, to be cradled as I sip life and alertness back into these sleepy bones.
Like so many rituals I find myself transformed to another world, the aroma takes me back to Paris, Cafe au Lait with tasty croissant, hearty Swiss ski breakfasts too, the taste to grandma’s living room, warm milk and brown sugar, lazy mornings with dear ones. Relaxed safe places. Different places from the same cup, the same way, every day.
Today watching eagles soar as I push out these keys to share these simple pleasures.
I gave up coffee for a few years, as I’d become seriously addicted drinking multiple Venti size take-out cups a day. Each one almost 600ml, meaning a litre or two of strong dark coffee a day. They helped me work and step away from work to think and digest the stresses of the day. Or so it seemed. Apparently they contributed to stress and dis-ease. Not the ideal solution for a work-a-holic, attempting to cure work pressures, endless deadlines and lack of sleep with multiple strong caffeine shots, ironically causing more stress daily.
So savouring the flavours each morning, my one cup, has become a sacred and treasured ritual.
A great way to wake up and greet the new day.
Feeling gratitude for waking up, for the cup, the comforts of home and good company.
Often while reading words that entertain and inspire.
Sometimes with brainteasers like Sudoku or Wordle. I try to leave the phone alone until after my one cup, as that often draws me in to all I have to do…
The world is in that cup, dark roasted Arabica beans, I walked past a roaster on my way to work each morning in London, memories, smells, flavours, sounds. Imagining Africa, Guatemala, the lush dense tropical forest where beans grow.
So much in that cup, our daily cup of Joe, the whole coffee culture we all become addicted to, habit, need ~ social, catered to, on every city street corner, cafe, made our way, we are so particular and needy of that boost. That boost built on slavery, colonization, plantations, the global consumption machine to help us work harder (or smarter), to get ahead, to make it though life and another day.
What is the real cost ? All those hard working hands and kind hearts, masters at work for my morning ahhhhs, my morning awakening, to another day of life, another day to use wisely, for it may be my last. And it could be a new beginning.
All that power to choose and notice, each morning, and it fits perfectly in the palm of my hand.
Sweet and creamy, the strong scent and flavours…
Soothing aroma, memories and flavours in a cup, savoured, grateful.
What would we do without you ?
How else would I start my day ?
To all those who bring us coffee, thank you. Bravo.
Keep it simple, make it a great day.
Coffee time, eagles screech, alerting to their presence and swooping gliding flight.
