Rainy Day

One of my favorite things to do is to host parties and gatherings. I love the feel of a room full of people talking and laughing. I love giggling until my eyes water and my belly aches in pain and I’m gasping for breath. I’m a bit spoiled when it comes to being a hostess, I have to admit, because I’ve been cast out of the kitchen for years now by my uber-chef husband who’s taken over the cooking since our son came along. He figured that someone had to do the cooking, and someone had to deal with the poopy crying thing, so he’d take the cooking. Now days, I’m knee deep in 3rd grade math while my husband is preparing dinner, trying to explain how one is to count change back when something is purchased. I’m a little annoyed that this is even being studied, because, first, the chance that actual bills and coins will still be tendered by the time my kid has his first minimum wage job is unlikely, and secondly, the cash register will tell him how much change the customer is supposed to get. If that doesn’t work, use a calculator, or if that doesn’t work, use your cell phone to call someone with a calculator, or heck, but then I’m sure the customer can walk out the door and the RFID in the exit will automatically bill the entire cart directly to his or her Visa.

Anyway, being more or less kicked out of the culinary action of a dinner party has left me in charge of what I call the three Ds: That’s drinks, decorations, and dessert. Today I got to indulge in drink making to my heart’s content, because my coffee roasting shop was filled with a giggling, talkative crowd, gabbing about everything from hair products, to the vice-presidential debate last night. I was on the espresso machine making one cappuccino after another (which I might say had about a 90% “good foam” success rate, which is not a bad rate for simulteaneous talking and foaming). I informed everyone that if they talked to me while I made their drink that it would take twice as long to get their beverage. I think this may be due to my uncontrollable need to flap my hands around as I talk. It’s genetic, I’m sure of it. People didn’t seem to care much about the speed, though, so I had some wonderful chats with some people I’d never met before.

This group happened to know each other pretty well, as they are the local masters swim club that swims together 5 days a week. Many of them regularly spend a few minutes after practice sharing a cup of coffee at the clubhouse. Today, I invited them over here, although I’m not myself a swimmer (something about staring at a tiled blue line while going back and forth trying not to suck water into my lungs every time I gasp for air just doesn’t work for me. It could also be related to my flapping hands issue—I’ll have to research that). I can see how much fun they have together, though, and loved being in the midst of this joyous crowd who seemed to relish in the simple pleasure of hanging out and sharing laughs.

It must be the slightly rainy day today, or this morning’s unexpected phone calls from a couple of missed friends that got me thinking about this, but I find that so many people just don’t make the effort to visit, call or make simple connections with others. We get so busy that we delay the phone call or email invitation. People make the lamest excuses, like thinking their home is too messy to have visitors, or they feel weird about inviting someone over who they don’t know very well. I think that’s crap, honestly. You’re really not that busy, and no one cares if your house is messy, and you don’t have to make a Food Network masterpiece. If you have friends who care about the mess in your house, or the quality of your meal, they suck. Find new friends.

I wouldn’t be honest if I didn’t say I realized today that this is the biggest joy of the business I’m in. I love that a simple invitation, with a simple little drink of coffee and milk can bring people together and fill us up more than anything else we may choose to do, this week or any other. I’m one lucky girl.
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Just a Tiny Giggle

I have a constant running joke going on in my head as I take in the quirks and comedy around me, even in situations that aren’t quirky or comedic, like, say, the Olympics these last 2 weeks. Impressive athletes, every one of them, but isn’t there something just too funny to ignore about the gymnastic dismount salute, or the fact that the US relay team didn’t hold on to a 1.5″ inch stick, as though they’ve had no practice with objects of that shape? Just saying. Read the rest of this entry »

The GPS

Girls from Idaho mostly aren’t fantastically savvy big city freeway drivers. I can point my mountain bike straight down a trail and hit speeds that might make some people puke, but there’s something about bobbing and weaving between 5 lanes of traffic while going well above the 65 mph speed limit that makes me a little uncomfortable. I was on my big adventure to visit my coffee supplier last week, though, so I sucked it up and became best friends with the voice on my $9 per day GPS. If you don’t know where you’re going and the digital voice inside a plastic box that’s plugged into your cigarette lighter can tell you how to get there, listen. She knows…you don’t. Read the rest of this entry »

Two Hands, Stupid

Have you ever fallen off a moving treadmill? I did this once. Not that it was actually falling “off”, but it was more like an attempt to get “on” the moving apparatus that caused the situation. It’s not often that I find myself jogging at the gym on the treadmill. It’s something I save for frigid winter days when there’s no option to go outside for a little ski or something. Anyway, there I was about 3 minutes into my jog, completely annoyed that I was watching Gun Dog: Bird Hunters on the TV with an out of range remote control in my hand. Bugged by my inability to control my environment, I stepped off the moving treadmill to walk up to the TV to get the thing to change to something more appropriate, like today’s Oprah, for example. Should I have asked the man 2 treadmills over if this was ok? Maybe, and this is probably why karma took control in the next moments. Read the rest of this entry »

Ta-Da!

Most people won’t refuse free cookies or free coffee, but thank goodness my highly polite friends, neighbors, and work colleagues were willing to give the garage coffee in the little brown bag a try. Some of the roasting attempts tasted great and some tasted downright boring. The quality of the green coffee beans that can be purchased by home roasters over the internet is as uncertain as Brittany Spears’ behavior, but none the less entertaining to roast and try. Read the rest of this entry »

Science or Art?

Flip red switch to “on” position, temperature control to “high”, ensure fire extinguisher is nearby. This is how the instructions for my new in-home coffee roaster read. Great, I’m going to burn the house down because I’m too lame to buy coffee at the store. I decided to stop there and back up about 20 steps. Now that I had the equipment that could actually turn out a decent roast, I needed to match my coffee roasting skills to it. This wasn’t cave-girl and the popcorn popper anymore. Read the rest of this entry »

The Good Stuff

Certain things in life are saved for those of us who fit into descriptive categories like “artsy fartsy” and “clog wearing”. It would be reasonable to say that I am not a fit for either of these categories, and may be as far away from them as a person can get since I’m mostly amused by rules, process, boxes and squares.

Without offending those who seem to have a knack for colorful dress, or choosing Dutch-inspired safety footwear, I might suggest that the above two categories fit with types who make their own kitchen gadgets from materials grown in their own gardens, or drink breakfast juices from green plants that would send my allergies so far into outer space that I’d need a moon sized Zyrtec to stop the itch that’s taken the place of my eyeballs, or think it’s a good plan to roast their own coffee beans in a “not intended for that purpose” popcorn popper out in their back yards just so they can have fresh coffee every week. Wait, what? Read the rest of this entry »

First Day on the Job

Here it is, first day on the job for real. How did I get here? That’s a good story. Don’t the craziest experiences always make for the best journeys?

About 14 months ago I decided to leave my respectable job in the outdoor industry after being employed in the same company for 14 years. (No comment on the 14.) I’d worked my way up the ladder over the years, and had a great position. It was the kind of job that when people asked about my work, they acted surprised like they didn’t actually think I was that smart. I liked the people at my office and had been lucky to receive tons of professional opportunities along the way. Why in the world would anyone leave a job like that? Honestly, I was ripe for a challenge to land in my lap, but didn’t really know it until the phone rang. Read the rest of this entry »