Take the Time to Smell the Coffee

Just this past Sunday, Michele and I enjoyed a nice breakfast with my in-laws to celebrate Father's Day. Food always has a nice habit of bringing people together; after all, it has worked for centuries. That's what I call wisdom. The day before, I eagerly went to Starbuck's to pick up a new pound of coffee. On the way, my thoughts traversed three continents in the span of about 10 minutes. Would I choose beans from the dense, parrot laden regions of South America, the hot, open plains of Africa, or the reaches of far flung Asia? While perusing the racks, I was asked if I needed help. Help! Hmmph! I was a bold explorer on a mission, a veritable Dr. Livingstone in the bowels of the steaming Congo. I settled on a pound of Guatemala Antigua. It seemed exotic yet practical, although I was told by a young female barrister that I looked like a Cafe Verona type of guy. For the next few hours I was eager to brew that first pot whose aromas I envisioned would transport me to an undiscovered Mayan temple buried in thick, green jungle. My in-laws arrived Sunday morning, and quickly told me that they looked forward to having my coffee (side note- they knew nothing of my purchase- they just happen to like my coffee-I guess we all have some kind of talent). When Michele went on to explain my feelings of excitement and anticipation over yesterday's purchase, we all had a warm chuckle, and I said, "It's all about the small things in life." My father-in-law quickly agreed. So, take the time to smell the coffee... and don't forget about the roses either.