Dorothy Harris

Thankful for the grind

The conversation the other morning went like this, "Has anyone given thanks to God yet this morning for coffee?" It may seem a foolish thing to be thankful for, but I find appreciation for my morning coffee grounds for discussion. Coffee seems to be almost as necessary as prayer in my daily life. It's the honest truth. Should I be ashamed to admit this? It's true I texted my daughter in delight when I wandered into an out of town Starbucks to find someone had come in before me with the code. This code, a secret number, released Pumpkin Spice a week early. I nearly danced with joy. It made my day. Am I too smitten with this stuff? I'm not as ridiculous about my morning coffee as some people I know. My dear mother is a good example. She made it crystal clear we weren't to talk until she had her morning cup. I've worked with folks over the years that couldn't begin work duties until their first jolt kicked in. One time, I saw someone walk miles to a gas station when there was no coffee to be had during an out of town work retreat. I would never do that for gas station coffee. For me it's not about the caffeine anyway. I'm pretty sure I can manage without it if necessary, although I am careful to make sure that never happens. It's quite peculiar I am so enamored with the taste of coffee since I never drank it until my 30s. It was clearly a good time to start as that's when I had a child, moving to the stage of life where a good night's sleep is mostly optional. Those early baby years are long past, but my world continues to present all manner of obstacles to a reasonable amount of shut eye. Work duties, life worries, restless family members and pets equal a string of overnight naps rather than a solid night for this light sleeper. The simplest solution is always more coffee.
So pass the café con leche please, or a foamy cappuccino. A venti latte or a café Francais is quite acceptable too. Never one to do things half way, my affection for coffee has become a study in various beans and their flavors. Bustelo is always found in my home along with a variety of hoity-toity types. I'm blessed to be working with folks who share my coffee fixation and bring new grinds to the office. A lot of folks don't drink coffee after 8 p.m. I can't help but wonder why? I've yet to find a blend that keeps me wired past bed time. Perhaps that's because sleep eludes me anyway. After all, our big orange cat continues celebrating his return to indoor life with yowling in the wee hours as our dog checks on our 4:30 a.m. paper delivery every single morning. Yawn. I'm not alone in my coffee addiction. Many of you share the same as we meet in the coffee aisle, Starbucks or Brewster's. Stretched thin by too many demands, we find rest a hot commodity, and a hot cup of coffee just the ticket to keep on going. We're tired, but with frequent applications of high test grind, there's no stopping us. Three hours of sleep? Hand me a double shot latte and I'm good for another day. Cappuccino after work ensures I keep on moving through evening activities and make all deadlines. When my hand finds itself empty, it's time to refill that cup. Slurp.