coffee
legend has it that i started drinking coffee about the same time i started walking, and by the time i was three no one better try to even talk to me in the morning before i had my first cup. well, i don't remember it that way, but it makes a cute story and my older sisters love to perpetuate it.
i remember it like this.
after we lived at thornton, we moved to fort cobb. to a six year old, that drive takes forever on dark, winding two-lane highways with black-on-white speed limit signs for day, and white-on-black for night, and narrow metal framed bridges. we moved a lot because pap was a construction worker, which doesn't sound like much, but he was a crane operator which kinda put him at the top of the shit heap. he was a good operator too, when he wasn't drinking.
construction workers get up early, because they have to be on the job by daylight. so pap was always up and dressed in his khakis while it was still dark outside. it was on one of those mornings that i woke up and stumbled sleepy-eyed into the dining room where pap sat at the table drinking his morning coffee.
he drank it black, and strong, and i'm sure it was a little of his mischievousness that prompted him when he said, "why g' mornin' fat boy! you want summa this?" too sleepy to even form words, i just yawned, rubbed my eyes and nodded in the affirmative. he got me my own cup and poured it about half full of the steaming brew. cautiously i took a sip. it was bitter, and i made a face. "what's the matter, you don't like it?" i shook my head no. he laughed then and said, "well hyere, let's doctor it up for ya a little bit." he spooned in some sugar and poured some milk in too. "now try it and see whatcha think." he slid the cup across the table to me and i tried it again. the once-bitter black poison was now smooth and sweet, and i took another sip right away.
one cream, two sugars. that's the way i always liked my coffee. the very color of it was a comfort to me, and the smell made me feel at home. i endured endless teasing about it. "you want a little coffee in your cream and sugar?" as kids, it was one of our favorite breakfasts: biscuits in coffee. not biscuits and coffee, biscuits in coffee. mom would make biscuits from scratch for supper and make enough extra so that the next morning for breakfast we would crumble one or two up in a bowl, pour in coffee, add cream and sugar, and eat it like a bowl of cereal. to this day, i've never met anyone who's ever tried such a breakfast, or wants to. but we loved it.
a few months ago i gave coffee up. i was having some headaches and thought maybe it was because of the caffeine. not the first time i gave it up though. when i was sixteen, i had trembling hands but i couldn't just quit the coffee, so i switched to hot tea, and that i could quit. but before too long i was back on it. and now that the days are turning cold, i find myself wanting something hot to drink. and what could be better than a good cup of hot coffee? with one cream and two sugars.
i remember it like this.
after we lived at thornton, we moved to fort cobb. to a six year old, that drive takes forever on dark, winding two-lane highways with black-on-white speed limit signs for day, and white-on-black for night, and narrow metal framed bridges. we moved a lot because pap was a construction worker, which doesn't sound like much, but he was a crane operator which kinda put him at the top of the shit heap. he was a good operator too, when he wasn't drinking.
construction workers get up early, because they have to be on the job by daylight. so pap was always up and dressed in his khakis while it was still dark outside. it was on one of those mornings that i woke up and stumbled sleepy-eyed into the dining room where pap sat at the table drinking his morning coffee.
he drank it black, and strong, and i'm sure it was a little of his mischievousness that prompted him when he said, "why g' mornin' fat boy! you want summa this?" too sleepy to even form words, i just yawned, rubbed my eyes and nodded in the affirmative. he got me my own cup and poured it about half full of the steaming brew. cautiously i took a sip. it was bitter, and i made a face. "what's the matter, you don't like it?" i shook my head no. he laughed then and said, "well hyere, let's doctor it up for ya a little bit." he spooned in some sugar and poured some milk in too. "now try it and see whatcha think." he slid the cup across the table to me and i tried it again. the once-bitter black poison was now smooth and sweet, and i took another sip right away.
one cream, two sugars. that's the way i always liked my coffee. the very color of it was a comfort to me, and the smell made me feel at home. i endured endless teasing about it. "you want a little coffee in your cream and sugar?" as kids, it was one of our favorite breakfasts: biscuits in coffee. not biscuits and coffee, biscuits in coffee. mom would make biscuits from scratch for supper and make enough extra so that the next morning for breakfast we would crumble one or two up in a bowl, pour in coffee, add cream and sugar, and eat it like a bowl of cereal. to this day, i've never met anyone who's ever tried such a breakfast, or wants to. but we loved it.
a few months ago i gave coffee up. i was having some headaches and thought maybe it was because of the caffeine. not the first time i gave it up though. when i was sixteen, i had trembling hands but i couldn't just quit the coffee, so i switched to hot tea, and that i could quit. but before too long i was back on it. and now that the days are turning cold, i find myself wanting something hot to drink. and what could be better than a good cup of hot coffee? with one cream and two sugars.
posted by fool2cr at 11/04/2006 10:48:00 AM
3 Comments:
Dear L. I like this little story...this memory.
I suppose it is because I have an affinity for the cafe' au lait myself! However, I like a great deal more sugar I am afraid. The good news is that I use a sugar substitute now. Anyway... back to you.
I love the way you write. The bit about the speed limit signs added something special to your narrative.
I'm sort of sorry in a way that you had to give up coffee. I realize that caffeine is a drug and I suppose it is considered to be "not so good for people", but it just tastes so wonderful. I am learning to like it in all forms, even frapachino [sic] and I never thought I would. The strange thing is, as much as I love it, I could never drink it black. It becomes something completely different in it's purest form.
Did your headaches go away?
I wish to say, that your father's first greeting of you in the morning, although it may have been his way of showing affection, does not seem all that kind. I can identify on some levels. Some people, for whatever reason just feel more free to say what it is they are thinking without worrying about how it affects another person. I suppose we all do it sometimes; but it is obvious that some do it more than others.
I would like to read more about your father. You write with depth and I look forwards to your blogs.
(I am having a little difficulty publishing my comment, so if it comes up more than once, please delete. Thanks..)
thanks for the encouragement. i didn't really have to give it up...i just decided to. eventually the headaches did go away -- don't know if it was really the caffeine or maybe just allergies. if you are a gambling person, put your money on me taking up coffe again before Christmas.
Oh I hope so.... (LOL)
Coffee is the breakfast of champions... oopss sorry... I mean companions. And also hot cocoa... now that's a drink that friends should share for sure. I made a huge pot of hot cocoa on Halloween night for a party of 7. (my kids and their friends)
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