Today I am feeling grateful for my Mocca Master and the first cup of coffee of the day. For the way I walk back into the kitchen at 8:13 or 8:17am each morning and see the previously empty pot filled with glorious honey liquid. And to the coffee beans that show up at my door step every other week, a new single origin selected by thoughtful people far away. When we brew the first pot from a fresh bag, I love how Tessa and I look at one another after the first sip and make certain noises to indicate how delightful we find it.

And then for the old blade grinder which is good enough, which has stepped into the broken Encore burr grinder’s place without fuss and has done its best. Isn’t it refreshing to do things simply? To come back to something small which is so reliable?

I couldn’t omit my favorite mugs either, there are many. Each one has a way of almost glowing there on the shelf when its day has come. I am happy that there is a part of me, an inner voice which is unserious, that ritualizes little choices like these.

And finally to Michael Nau, and Tangle’s Way, overbrimming with soft longing that is somehow propulsive, rather than stuck. Which I recognize in myself too as I drink my third cup of outstanding coffee.