Real Gifts

    You know I totally get how one wishes health, jobs that they love, or maybe even positive relationships for their children in their lives. However, I have to say (without a doubt) that seeing your kids happy is like manna from the gods.  Despite Christmas morning's chaos, I caught myself just randomly observing my son and daughter.  And I want to point out that I wasn't just watching them like the stalking mother that I typically am, but instead this time I found myself really taking them in. The laughter, and the joy on their faces was palpable. I could drink of that cup forever. And you know what?  I didn't even reach for my phone. You see, I didn't need to because this wasn't a picture. This was a feeling.

* No real pictures here as my 22 and 24 year old would not hesitate to sever all ties. 

Connections

      This weekend my husband and I got a dose of much needed culture sprinkled with a little one-on-one time (don't ask- we are WAY too caught up in  everyday craziness) and caught a matinee in San Francisco of Aaron Sorkin's Broadway acclaimed adaption of To Kill A Mockingbird. 

   There is absolutely nothing like the experience of art.  However, I must confess a pattern I've discovered in my life.  The pattern is that every time my husband and I finally make time for art, enjoy it, and acknowledge its' absence, we then find ourselves solemnly promising ourselves that this is never happening again. And then inevitably the cycle just repeats itself. (Oops, I digress.)

     The play was phenomenal, the set was unbelievable, and the actors just shone. Like any piece of art it's universality with the world, and especially today's mindset were not lost on me.

     However, the part when Scout "outs," Mr. Cunningham in the scene by the jail cut to my very core. I found myself squeezing my eyes trying to fight back a few tears. Immediately, I connected with this very emotional part of the play but also connected to my own life. I knew at that very moment why I love kids. I love kids because they have that power. They cut through the nonsense, the hate, the stupid adult mistakes, and those unforgivable behaviors. Children cut a path through the field ahead for us that many choose not to follow. 

Genetics

 

   I can't explain it. I'm no scientist, BUT there is a weird relationship going on with coffee and my family.  And you know what? It's been going on for a long time. 

     I was told when my mom graduated from college her sweet mates actually gave her a coffee pot on a rope. They laughed about it when they told me but I duly took note.

    I  actually met my husband over an espresso. And by the way, I had long ago taken a side in the longstanding Starbucks and Peets feud in northern California.  ( If you have to ask which side I took, you obviously have not had a cup of Peets coffee!)

   When visiting my older sister recently I instantly thought she could be preparing for the apocalypse while looking at her supply of coffee. The pounds were stacked neatly in the corner of her pantry like bricks of gold. She smiled sheepishly. " They were on sale," she offered.

    In college my daughter revealed one morning that not only had she gone out and bought herself a Nespresso machine but she was keeping it in her room.  "Mom, I need it for late night studying. I don't have a problem do I?" 

 I brought my Yeti Rambler 30 oz tumbler to my lips, took a sip of my Peets Major Dickinsons, and reassured her that she did not.