Skip to main content

Aw, beans

I like coffee. I am not an addict, really, but I like it. I like one cup of good coffee in the morning.  By good I mean nice beans, darkly roasted but not charred. I grind them fresh, then pour boiling water over them and let them infuse the water with flavor.

It's simple, really. One of those daily rituals that you look forward to upon waking. I add a spoon or so of raw sugar, then enjoy the warm, dark liquid.

I don't consider myself a snob, but I may have strong preferences. I don't like light coffees, or even medium coffees. I like French Roast or Italian Roast.  Costo carries a vendor we like, so hubby picks me up a two pound bag every couple of months and life is good. It's a New Mexico roaster, so we feel good about the choice - it's always nice to support local.

The other day I was at Sprouts picking up a few things, and I noticed they had a sale on their coffee beans. I investigated, remembered that our stock was getting low, and decided to try an Organic Italian Roast.  Turned out to be a lovely choice. Lovely.

But it's come to my attention that after a few days of enjoying this new coffee? It amps me up way more than the roast I'm used to (which is probably between a dark and French). Now, I find this interesting since the lighter the roast, the higher the caffeine content. This stuff is really dark. And smooth in a velvety, rich way.

Mmmmm.

Love the new beans, and have to say I am noticing markedly more productive mornings since I've begun enjoying the Italian Roast.

Which can't be a bad thing, right?

Big hugs, and have a great week!

Stevie

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

On Mondays. And lots of rules.

Mondays can be a challenge. There's the whole shock to the system of waking up and realizing it's not the weekend anymore, which kind of blows. And then the jolt out of the lazy flow of the weekend into the time-focused 'gotta be at the office by x time, gotta get ready for the company meeting, gotta check emails/deadlines to ensure nothing is on fire' stuff. And then the reality of settling into the week...and knowing that this one will be a full one. They all seem to be. This week for me: Work. Lots of good stuff going on, but 'lots' being the watchword. School. 2nd trimester starts. Tomorrow a.m. So tomorrow for me is school, 9-12; work 1230-430; clinic 5-9. Long day, Tuesday. For this I've washed and pressed my lab coat, cleaned out my tote (it is truly amazing what collects during a trimester in terms of used kleenexes, abandoned index cards, folded notes that were important at some point but now are just extra weight, stale snacks, etc.), and ...

It might have been the moon

 The second Super Moon, also a Harvest Moon, just happened. On the same night I had my mini-meltdown. (see prior post). I've talked with several friends who reported intense emotions, mostly around stuff that needs to be released, resolved. When I think about my angst, and how intense it felt, I realize it was all about that kind of stuff. Old stuff, patterns, thinking, habits. So maybe the moon precipitated things. The bubbling up of angst and anger and icky stuff lasted all that night, but had calmed by yesterday morning. Thank gawd, because that was a morass of darkness, the likes of which I haven't experienced in at least a decade. The rest of the weekend has been pleasant. Uneventful. Full of errands, chores, a really nice walk this morning, yummy food, naps, etc. The one thing about energy that feels constant is that no mood lasts forever. Energy continually shifts and morphs, like the Universe knows too much, too long, of any one sentiment just isn't a good idea for ...

The run

I have the body of a sprinter, but always ran long distance. My wind would stabilize, my muscles would synchronize, my mind would clear...at about mile 2.5 and just improve after that. For decades I ran. My high school P. E. teacher, Ms. Vidano, instilled the love of the run, and it remains to this day, long past when I should endeavor to tread the roads for miles and miles. The run sustained me after my (very early life) divorce. The run helped reconnect with a childhood friend, who had ventured far for college but returned for work, and who found me enjoying a post-work cigarette and glass of wine on my balcony one night and said, 'Oh, no, this isn't right. Put that fucking thing out. I'll be here in the morning. We're going shopping, and we're going running.' Loved that. He was right, and he was awesome, and he got me back out of a trench and into my running love zone. Then I met my now love, my man of many years, father of my children, partner in ...