Billy, my husband, has never been a coffee drinker. That is, until, until about 3 months ago.
He’s always loved the smell of coffee, but he’s never been a coffee drinker.
Suddenly, about two months ago, he said, “Can you make a pot of coffee?”
Now I ask “Hey, Billy, want a coffee from Dunkin?” or “Hey Billy, want a coffee from Starbucks?”
Last week, I brought him home a skim latte. He loved it.
Now, on Thursday nights, when I know he is working from home the next day, I set pot of coffee to be brewed for the two of us.
He’s played around with how he will “take” his coffee. He started with sugar and cream or milk. Then he read that we should add cinnamon to the grounds. We did. It was good. His latest recipe for a good ‘cup o’ joe’ is to replace the sugar with pure maple syrup. This one has stuck. On the mornings we have a pot, he pours his cup, places it on the island, adds a bit o’ milk, and then out comes the pure Vermont maple syrup. Carefully her pours a drizzle or two in, gives it a stir, takes a sip, and lets out an “AHHH…soooo goood.”
Now this may seem like just a man growing and changing kinda slice. But for me, it means a little bit more.
I have these visions of our future. Some of them include skiing in Vermont mid week because that’s what retired people do. Some of them include renting an RV and driving clear across the country stopping where ever we please. Others include planting and tending a massive garden. There’s even this vision, ok this one may be a dream, that we own a Christmas tree farm somewhere.
But there’s this one vision, I’ve always had. It a simple one. It’s the two of us sitting on a front porch or back patio sipping freshly brewed coffee together. Up until three months ago, I thought of my vision as whimsical. Now that he’s a coffee drinker, I think I can see this vision a bit more clearly.