A gray day in the Boston area. I am trying very hard to focus on all the writing projects I have due this week. The only legit excuse I’ve given myself to rise from this chair is for coffee. Coffee is one of those substances in which as an adult I have at times overindulged. As a child, I associated coffee with my father. My mother, by the time I was old enough to notice, drank only hot tea (Lipton’s with a half teaspoon of sugar). My dad preferred instant coffee.
Pop
One teaspoon of the dark brown granules in his orange plastic cup. The resulting brew liberally lightened with canned Pet evaporated milk, and sweetened with two heaping teaspoons of sugar. Sometimes if I sat on his lap he’d let me have a slurp or two. It wasn’t until I went away to college that I had fresh brewed coffee. Took me a while to get used to the complex flavors. I continued to buy instant, but less for the flavor than for the connection to my dad, especially on Sunday mornings when we would speak by phone. Years later, after I had moved to Boston and began working for a start-up nonprofit, brewed coffee became manna. Didn’t hurt that I lived in a Boston neighborhood with a coffee shop at every corner (and that was before Starbucks made inroads). I always had a coffee cup in hand. In fact, one year for my birthday, Bert, a good friend and colleague, drew my cup of the moment.
Today I drink from a simple white mug a coffee recently roasted by Steve’s son-in-law. I had to grind the beans myself before brewing. I’ve already had two cups. I think I’ll give myself permission to have one more cup … after I complete a couple of items on my list. Until then … enough of these coffee musings. I hope your day goes well! 😉
Kyle's Coffee
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