Coffee Break

My childhood memories that I show you are usually horrific ones of an abused and scared little girl.  I remembered this contradictory morning and wanted to share it with you.  Not every hour and every minute was bad and perhaps that type of childhood is even more challenging – never knowing where on the spectrum of love and hate a moment is going to land.

It’s Saturday morning, not too early because even as a little kid, I was never a super-early riser.  Perhaps it’s 8 or 9 o’clock.  I’m watching Saturday morning cartoons from my spot  on the floor at the end of the coffee table.  In front of me is a half-finished Libby  juice glass of “coffee” made especially for me by dad – three heaping tablespoons of sugar, probably filling 1/3 of the glass, 1/3 whole milk and the final third of coffee.  Tasting more like dessert than bitter coffee, it’s delicious. Dad is sitting behind me at the dining table, reading the paper with his mug of black coffee in his hand.  The rest of the family is still asleep.  All is well.

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Necessities

Coffee

Sunshine

Sweets

A kitty

Books

A patch of dirt

A kitchen, no matter how rustic

A place to call home

Pork

Pleasures

First kisses
Perfectly cooked crispy bacon
Being brought coffee in bed
My kitty, purring
The scent of freshly cut grass without the noise of the mower/blower
Twittering finches
Babbling brooks
The warmth of the sun on my back
The air when I drive by the cookie factory
Fresh rain on dusty blacktop
Crescent moons on clear, chilly nights
Spooning in the dawn hours
The sound of my pencil on paper
Nutella, spooned straight from the jar
Crackling fires in Autumn
Being loved – despite all my faults
7 am Saturday morning – when I realize I have hours more to sleep
A new haircut
Holding hands
Spaetzle, fried crisp in butter
Nonsensical conversations in bed
Lindor Milk Chocolate Truffles
Napping to the sound of the washing machine
The very last center bite of buttery cinnamon sugar toast
Watering the backyard, barefoot, on a warm summer evening
Wind chimes in a gentle breeze
Sun-warmed tomatoes, straight from the vine