Mmmm...good!

A good cup of coffee can bring such pleasure. Now, I'm not a hard core fanatic...I don't think at least...since I haven't yet roasted my own beans; but, I know a good cup from a watery hack when I see/taste it.

Luckily for us, the Italians came up with pressurized espresso. So magical. The little crema at the top. Add a little raw sugar and it's just like the darkest chocolate. I can't get enough. Of course when my hands are twitching and I get the 'jimmy legs' in bed, there are issues. But, it can be pure bliss.

Of course the opposite is true. When you order espresso from a large chain with a mermaid as it's symbol, things go bad...fast. First, there is never any crema...what the heck?? Is something wrong with the machine? Do they not know how to roast the beans? And usually it is barely warm. And if you order it 'for here' to get a little foofy cup, they don't pre-heat it...!? What planet are they on, Uranus?

So, to be clear, I like coffee strong and dark. No sugar [except for the aforementioned, espresso]. I don't want to ever see my cup in any form when I look into it. I don't want to see the sides, and if I see the bottom, I will assume you've given me tea.

How long is it till later?

This morning, pre-dawn, I was in the living room with my 3 kids. They have all decided that even with a time change, it is still important to get up before there is light, birds chirping, or coffee brewed. Anyway, we were out in the living room and inevitably, I will be asked to get up off the couch I am planted in to do something, get something, or make something.

This morning, like most mornings, where I am faced with this dilemma, I say something brilliant like, "I can do that a little later." Later, always meaning, 'sometime in the future when my buttocks is not stuck to this couch.'

This morning, though...after a few minutes of future had become past, my son posed a deeply profound question to me, "Daddy, how long is it till later?" I looked at him realizing many things: he is more patient than I thought; his sense of time is improving; he cares deeply about setting up his online world of Build-a-Bear [which had started all this in the first place]; being a 'daddy' here is unplugging myself from the couch and getting into his world for a few minutes.

This morning was great, because for a few minutes, I was "Daddy", a daddy who could be a part of my son's life and do something meaningful to him.

Leaky Waders

It's kinda lame when you wake up at 4:00 AM full of anticipation to catch some trout...drive a couple hours on adrenaline and coffee to find a lake you've never fished, but heard good rumors about...pay to fish, freeze your caboodle off gearing and rigging up...pick out the perfect fly to launch into still water...hike through spiky planted brush...which digs into your flesh and tears it's share off as an offering...wade slowly into the crisp 56 degree water...pull out some line to cast as a BREEZE starts to ruffle up the water...then realize, at what is still 0-dark early, that you have leaky waders.