>There’s a fun thing that happens on a Friday night (when you’re lame like me)…
Assuming I haven’t been out and about on said Friday night (which is increasingly rare of late), nightfall finds me righting the kitchen. I don’t use the term “righting” lightly… I actually feel like I discovered a little early what my mom knew for years: it feels good and comforting to shut the house down at night and prepare for the coming day.
I may clean as I go while making dinner or just wipe things up a bit after a relaxed Friday night (like this one) with some wheat crust Jim’s Razorback Pizza and family movies. Tonight was Chocolat – must see if you haven’t.
But to my point… my favorite, sad little moment entails the next day coffee prep for a Saturday morning. First, I get to make a little extra. Second, I take my time grinding whole beans and enjoying a whiff of the results rather than feeling like I’m indulging a major decadence when I could theoretically just scoop some coffee in the pot.
But third, and most importantly: I’m able to place two sturdy coffee mugs side by side on the counter, side by side in life. Because on Saturday mornings, we aren’t grabbing travel mugs and dashing out the door, focused more on our jobs than one another. The mugs say that life is slower, and we’ll have time to visit, make eye contact, sip slowly and connect. We can savor the taste of the coffee rather than down it in desperation to cope with the day ahead. We can be us, not them.
Call me sentimental, but it’s comforting. In fact, it just might be what it’s all about: our raison d’être, our reason for being… the point of dashing through it all during the week.
Yes, it’s a cup (or three) of coffee. We sip it. We lounge in PJs. The kids have a forum for tall tales. It’s life… only it’s life in tune with one another.
All hail the Saturday cup of joe.
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