Coffee, 咖啡, Café, قهوة, Kape, फलियों की शराब;

The old, more festive cups.
Tastes just as good in plain
red cups.

I ordered two cups this morning.  Venti Zebra Mocha, three pumps white mocha, one pump mocha, no whip.  One of them extra hot. Because it was a two-cup kind of day. 

While in college, creating espresso 
beverages became a hobby to me.  In fact, my favorite job - other than teaching - was working as a barista at Starbucks.  You know, that establishment with the famous, or infamous, plain red holiday cups?  That place. Though I preferred the sugared-up beverages back then, such as the mocha frappucino, I began to acquire a taste for coffee.  More specifically, I fell in love with espresso. Since that time I have experimented with all types of coffees and beans, wondering what makes one beverage taste so much better than another.

The coffee beverage my dad would drink was always watered-down with no real flavor, just a slight bitterness. The coffee that my Middle Eastern friends served me was - Wow! There are just no words to describe it! To say the texture was thick and coarse would be an understatement. Strong? Let's just say, I didn't sleep for a week. There were bitter coffees, smooth coffees, nutty and smokey coffees, floral and woody coffees, sweet with a hint of cocoa coffees. Some were served in a cup while others were offered in a shot glass. Certain varieties were served with grounds included, others were brewed and strained. Why were they all so different? It was more than just the way it was served; the difference was in the bean.

It's all about the beans.

Arabica. Washed Arabica coffee from Columbia is supposedly the finest. However, Arabica beans in general are considered superior than other types of beans. Arabica beans are oval instead of round and are larger, sometimes double the size, of other beans (Baskerville).

What Not to Say to a Woman!

"You're wearing that to work?"

The room went silent.  Heads turned.  Every eye focused on me and waited for my reaction.  My eight year old's eyes went wide with expectation.  He knew his daddy had messed up big.

And, yes, I began to rant.

"What do you mean, am I wearing this to work?  Of course I am.  What's wrong with what I'm wearing?  Do you mean to say that I look bad in it?  Does it make me look fat?  I can't believe you would say that?  You are supposed to be supportive and encouraging, not critical and judgmental." And I went on...and on. And my voice crescendo'ed.  Everyone in the room seemed to shrink.

My husband stood there, mouth slightly open, arms partially out to his side, palms facing forward in his "what just happened" stance.  After eleven years of marriage you would think he would have figured out what to say and what not to say to his wife.  He sincerely looked clueless.  

My seven and eight year old boys, however, knew instantly that he had said the wrong thing.  It's like they were born with a sensitivity that grown men are lacking. Lucky for their dad, the oldest one lessened the tension in the room when he mimicked his older buddies and said, "ahh, snap!"  But seriously, are men born with a sensitivity to females and then lose that understanding when they become adults?  My young boys respond with kindness and gentleness to our twin girls, but are rough and often insensitive to their guy friends.  I wonder if that will change as they get older, if they will gradually morph into a mass of male insensitivity.

Yes, I do know that all men are not insensitive.  My father was not. 

The insensitive male is a stereotype.  I am aware of this.

There are biological, psychological, physiological, all other kinds of 'logical differences between men and women that set both genders up for inevitable failure.  There remains a need for men and women to actively seek understanding about how men and women interact, think, feel, etc.  Different needs often dictate different behaviors, not all negative.  I don't want my husband to act like a woman.  So why do I overreact when he fails to respond like a female would?

A successful male/female relationship, as my children are learning from watching their silly mom, depends on a balance between understanding typical gender differences and a sensitivity to the needs of our partner.  Let me also acknowledge that every guy is unique and many are naturally sensitive and caring and understanding, and every girl is also unique with qualities that sometimes reveal insensitivity at a greater level than most men.  This post is based on my personal experiences with my Honey.

Furious Flying Furball

     

A furious flying furball catapults from the green leather ottoman and is airborne for at least three solid seconds.

"When did he learn to do that?" my six year old howls.

"About the same time that you did!" I reply.

This creature, both fascinating and infuriating, is not a typical dog.  Part cat, part Tasmanian devil, he leaps to food-laden counter tops and devours meals prepared for a party of ten.  He annihilates motorized toys, treasured books, and even intricately carved wooden items from foreign countries.  (Yes, I'm still a tad bitter!)  This six pound varmint terrorizes toddlers and consistently creates chaos.  So why, you ask, does he still have a home with us?

He's unaware of the havoc he causes.  His joyful play is our utter destruction.  And the destruction will someday cease - at least that is what I keep telling myself.  This seemingly evil creature cuddles in my arms and literally leans in for hugs.  I've never witnessed an animal doing that!  While leaning his head into me, he carefully wraps his front arms around mine - a true hug.

While recovering from two surgeries last summer that left me immobilized for several weeks, this puppy provided much comfort.  He entertained me during the day as he chased the light from a laser pen or tried to bite balls that were much too big for his terrier-sized mouth.  During the nights while everyone else dozed comfortably in their beds unaware of my pain and discomfort, Gruder kept me company, licking my arm or whimpering when I moved or groaned with pain.  He seemed to understand that I was healing and needed a constant companion.

They told me, "It's not a good time to get a puppy!" and "Wait until you recover, and then get one." They told me the animal would be too much trouble for me to take care of right now. They said the boys would not help take care of him, and that it would be too much to ask of them even if they were willing.

I'm so glad I didn't listen