Coffee Log, Day 39

Hi.

Coffee: Cafe Pajaro, Extra Dark, Trader Joe’s Brand

Yesterday’s rain brought the pollen off the trees and stuck it to everything else: pavement, mailboxes, lawn furniture, cars. The apartment complex looks like a chalkboard your teacher hasn’t cleaned since tenure.

I woke up late again. I was planning to walk downtown to the farmer’s market. Turns out, the farmer’s market was closed for the holiday anyway. I’ve spent the morning fussing around doing nothing. I’ll straighten my sheets and mess them up again. I was out of Swiss cheese for a sandwich so I reheated last night’s pasta. I took my first sip of coffee after noon.

But I’m feeling pretty good about it. A yellow morning, blue sky.

Currently Reading:
Tar Baby, Toni Morrison

Fund the Coffee Log 🙂 – https://ko-fi.com/livesaywriting  

“No ceilings.” – Lil Wayne

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Coffee Log, Day 34

Hi.

Coffee: Honduras, Cooperativa Raos

It’s getting warmer, at least. We’ve had two snows in one week of Spring. Winter won’t let go. Its hard to let go. I feel kinship with the Winter.

This week, I anticipate goodbyes. A dear friend’s moving. Jobs are looking up. I’d gotten used to the in-between, the long days of going anywhere I wanted while the money ran down, over-thinking, being a fly on the margins of the employed-man’s world. It wasn’t all easy. I knew this would end. Grains have to grow.

The trees haven’t budded yet. It’s sunny, but Winter’s still got it’s foot in the door. I’m happy to have it around.

Currently Reading:
Tar Baby, Toni Morrison

“Look me in my eyes, call me on my lies. Lock the city down til’ the summertime.” – Nipsey Hussle, Stucc in the Grind

Fund the Coffee Log 🙂 – https://ko-fi.com/livesaywriting  

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Coffee Log, Day 29

Hi.

Coffee: Honduras, Cooperativa Raos.

Spring walks in wearing last season’s best: it’s snowing. News says the Northeast is getting slammed by another blizzard but it’s enough of a storm here. The flakes are big. Even though it’s warm, the snow’s sticking. The trees look like they’ve been dipped in cornstarch, ready to fry.

As a kid, snow was perfect. Now its more complicated. I’ve got a lot of driving to do today. People I love are driving too. When does danger slip its fingers in your pocket? In the bluster of big wet snow its hard to tell ‘fear’ from ‘responsibility.’

Oh well. It’s a beautiful storm either way.

Currently Reading:
Tar Baby, Toni Morrison

“The snow doesn’t give a soft white damn who it touches.” E.E. Cummings

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