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Category Archives: Life

Be strong and we will show no fear
Be brave and we will not submit
Do not yield and we will believe
Do not doubt and we will persevere
We will conquer all

Morning.

Early morning.

The house is quiet.

I rub the sleep from my eyes and hit the ground running.

The sun is blaring through the white and green paisely covered picture window.

A gnarly *thunk* goes the ancient 13 channel tube lurching to a phosphorent blaring life, more than ready to burn its blurry images into young eyes.

Lost in that heady mix of sugar powered cartoons, poorly written and acted voices, and classic coyote fare, one smell eventually fills the air.

A combination of Maxwell House coffee, Coffee Mate, and toasting bread.

My grandmother is up and making herself breakfast, but I’m too lost in my own world of sugar frosted commercials and mutant turtles to take much notice. That same smell every morning before she tends to all of her chores.

They say the sense of smell is one of the most powerful memory triggers.

I believe it.

My grandmother is long gone now, but I will always remember that smell, and I can still picture her at our table, her mug of coffee, a slice of buttered toasted bread, maybe with a slice of ham, and always folded in half so she could dip into her coffee. Sometimes she’d also have a soft boiled egg, and more times than naught, I’d have one too.

While I don’t drink Maxwell house coffee, nor do I use Coffee Mate, I do love coffee, hot buttered toast, and soft boiled eggs sprinkled with salt. I don’t think anyone needs a recipe for that, but I do have another favourite eggs recipe (taken from Gordon Ramsay’s ‘sublime scrambled eggs’ recipe):

Scrambled Eggs

2 large eggs (organic please)
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
1/2 tablespoon crème fraîche or sour cream
fresh dill or chives, finely chopped
salt, pepper

Break eggs into a cold pan, add butter, and place over medium-low heat.

Whisk. Off heat. Whisk. On Heat. Whisk. Repeat ad nauseam until they become creamy and start to solidify.

Stir in crème fraîche.

Add dill or chives and season with salt and pepper.

Serve with coffee, and a slice of hot buttered toast, and early morning cartoons.

The need. The craving. The wanting.

The soft inviting gurgle draws you in. The smell wafts across the room and permeates everything and invites you to come even closer.

As each hot drip splashes down you can feel yourself getting anxious. You can feel yourself becoming impatient.

Your anticipation rises when you finally reach in. That sound it makes as you pour, the glossy perfect shimmer as you look down. Seems like nothing else in this world.

The culmination of all your effort, all your waiting, all if your senses collide in that last moment when you finally bring it to your lips and taste.

The perfect cup of coffee in the morning.

People seem to be writing a lot about coffee lately (especially this morning). About it’s health properties, how much is too much, is fair trade really fair and whatnot.

Sometimes things can just be over analyzed. Sometimes things simply need to be enjoyed.

In fact, I think I will go enjoy another cup right now.

It’s always intimidating your first time.

The sweating.

The excitement.

The shaking.

The anticipation.

Before you even get warmed up it’s over and you’ve posted your first blog.

Not even any tears either.