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Squirrels and Coffee

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I get a lot of laughter in my family about my unadulterated, passionate love of coffee. I love coffee. I did not always like it, in fact, I could not stand the smell until I was in my mid-20’s. Now, when I smell a really good cup of coffee, I start to salivate. Even at 500 paces I can smell the inky goodness. I do admit I have an affection for Starbucks, even though the caffeinated elite have ¬†tendency to turn their nose down on the dreaded SBUX.

I have a Keurig coffee pot AND a Cuisinart pot. The Keurig is for daily use and the Cuisinart is for

((to be continued. Lost my train of thought))

So where was I…Ah, yes. Coffee. Elixir of the Gods. Tears of the Prophet. It is 0605¬†on Sunday. We have a new puppy in the house and she must be let out to whiz, brought in to be fed, and then taken for the morning walk. Now that that has been completed, and she is curled up, eating the couch, I have my coffee. I love dark roast coffees. There is no light roast bend for me! I need to be woken up—and woken up in a hurry. My current fave?? Community Coffee, which I had in New Orleans, while on a trip with my friend, writer Sandra Carrington-Smith. She preferred the Cafe du Monde which to me was lighter than an angel fart. Meh. Blah. Add Sugar. Blend-Blend-Blend. Add 1/2 and 1/2. Blend-blend-blend.

Good stuff it is. I can feel my night unwinding, and my ass waking up. I still think it is way too early to be awake, and just to prove that point? The damn dog went BACK to sleep while I am stuck awake at 0619. On a Sunday.

I am such a sucker.

 

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