I came to drink coffee late in life. I always loved the smell of it brewing. My dad was the coffee drinker in our home. It was Folgers and he drank it black. I tried his brew a few times over the years but couldn't take the bitter broth.
Trying to be cool some years later on a ladies day out, I ordered an espresso because everyone else was having one (not a line of reasoning I encourage my children to adopt). That drink (delivered in what appeared to be one of my daughter's tiny tea set cups) did things to my resting heart rate that I was not prepared for. I'm already what some would describe as an "active" person. But that afternoon I was hyper to the tenth power! I swore off that black crack right then and there.
It wasn't until I was in my 40's while traveling on a mission trip (peer pressure again) that I was introduced to Starbucks and their coffee concoctions. Now the concoction part was key-- chocolate, caramel, vanilla, cinnamon...all very agreeable to my palate so why not try them mixed in my coffee? This time it took...and I was hooked. I'd probably have a full blown addiction if I hadn't lived 40 miles from the nearest Starbucks stand at the time.
Today I live in a town with a Starbucks on every corner and several other local wannabes and near-enoughs. I pass 4 or 5 stands on my way to work every morning so I must excercise great discipline. I allow myself one drink a week. It's my Friday treat or my Wednesday pick-me-up depending on the kind of week I am having. Today it was the Wednesday pick-me-up because, if you've been reading me the last couple of days then,you know why. It was cinnamon-y and just what I needed on a cool, rainy day. It was yummy. Since I didn't save you a sip, I thought the least I could do is share the sweet saying on from the back of my cup:
I'm not sure it qualifies for words of wisdom or inspiration but after a double shot of espresso, I can embrace it.