Coffee, dark, brown brew that doubles as my elixir of life, with or without the actual caffeine, though the unleaded kind does nothing to combat the congestion in my chest. I’ve been drinking the stuff since childhood, in one form or another – two table spoons from my mother’s cup stirred into my milk, most often – but it’s also my favorite ice cream flavor (especially with a scoop of coconut served along-side), even more than chocolate.
Coffee is my writing drink, and tea is my reading drink. I wonder if it’s because the blend of chamomile and peppermint that I favor is responsible for my different mental processes, or if it’s force of habit. Probably both.
Coffee makes me think in music as well as words, and I have images in my head of jazz trios made of flute, cello, and piano. One thought leads to another, the cello stays, but this time it’s on a cello stand, and there’s a table nearby with an empty mug, and sheet music with hastily scribbled notations – up-bow here, down-bow there, – and a post-it reminding me to practice more in extended positions.
I am pulled from the images in my head as one of the dogs claws at my wrist, catching a tiny toe on the wristband of my watch. Chronometers. I remember that in early Star Trek novels they always had chronometers, not watches. I remember also, that my cello teacher made me remove my watch during lessons. I always felt naked without it, and I made more mistakes because I was uncomfortable, but didn’t have the words for the feeling then.
The dog (Zorro) has had his ears scratched, and now curls up on his pillow. He clearly wants to go cuddle with Fuzzy – he’s a chihuahua, bred to be a sleep companion, and his favorite spot is crunched between us in the bed. I want to go cuddle with Fuzzy, too, but I can’t make the decision, yet, to crawl back into bed.
Fuzzy’s name is my favorite C-word, even more than coffee: Christopher understands me, loves me, supports me. We spend cozy evenings surrounded by the incessant hum of our computers, holding hands across the spot where the couches touch, watching dvd’s, and laughing. Lately, we’ve taken turns sending each other floor plans of houses in Colorado, Texas, Florida. Our next destination still isn’t set.
I think the latter wins this time.