gratitude-a-thon day 2033: I heart coffee


This was an especially delish cappuccino in South Beach at a little Italian place that was supremo. And that heart, that’s how I feel about coffee.


God, that first sip of coffee. Sigh, gasp. Happy face.

I will, every once in a while, if I’m really beyond exhausted and have to be on that night, have a second cup in the afternoon, or a little swallow, but really I’m just that morning wake up cup that says, “hey, brain, start it up, we’re on deck.”

I heat the milk in the microwave and there’s a whole lot of it. I am big on the milk, albeit lactaid milk, truth is I can’t tell the difference. Then I pour in the coffee and a generous teaspoon of agave. I know some people think agave is bad for you, but I am a little in love with the taste of it and you need less than sugar, which people also think is bad for you, but I am a moderation person, so I sing along with Mary Poppins “Just a spoonful of sugar.”

Yes, I’ve gratituded over coffee before, but can one be too thankful that one’s cup runneth over with Dunkin’?  It’s the little things. Today it’s the coffee.



gratitude-a-thon day 486: coffee in bed


When I had my bunionectomy, (which a friend referred to as a bunionoscopy, which I think is a much better name because it strikes me as funny), Peter started bringing me coffee in bed. I couldn’t quite believe how much I liked it. I felt a little like Lady Mary on Downton Abbey (but not as pretty, or as lavishly adorned).

When I could walk again, and make my way down to the kitchen just fine on my own, Peter continued bringing the coffee. And I practically gave him a standing ovation every morning. It just felt like such a special thing to have done for me. I felt pampered, and hell, pampered is good.

Grateful for my big mug ‘o coffee delivered to my big bed of covers while I’m still in it. Peter, you make my day.