When I was a little girl, I loved coffee. My parents didn’t drink coffee at all but when my sisters and I stayed with our grandparents, every morning was kid bliss waking up to a warm house and the aroma of coffee.
My Gram was old-school and subscribed to the wives’ tales of coffee inhibiting your growth and putting hair on your chest. Actually, I think the hair on your chest part was my Grandpa. He had no problem with us drinking coffee. My Gram would only give us little sips of hers, but the kid coffee at her house was a cup of beef bouillon from those little salt cubes. I didn’t mind. It was just as delicious.
The Scent Of Home
For me, the attraction to coffee was purely aromatic. It was the scent of home. And as I grew into my life, coffee was a big part of it. It was my attempt at creating a here-is-home-space wherever I was.
Just before I became pregnant with my twins, I was hired at the first Starbucks in Mankato, MN. I remember being so excited to come home smelling like coffee. Unlike other jobs I had worked where I smelled like fried, fast food or shop grease. I loved that job so much. I made a lifelong friend there and my twins were knit together in my belly to the sounds of a steaming wand, and an espresso machine.
My son, Jacob, has followed in my footsteps and worked at Starbucks stores in Minnesota and Washington for nearly ten years. And though I don’t think he associates the rich, warm smells of coffee with home, I know he has found his community there. So, maybe he does connect coffee and home after all.
These days, I love a bold and delicious cup of coffee. To sniff and to drink. Unfortunately, my household has succumbed to the thin convenience of a good ol’ Keurig machine. Actually, three Keurig machines. I guess we’re pretty hard on them because they never last for long. I’m secretly a little delighted when they fail though, because it means I pull out my French press pot and, at least for a little while, cultivate a coffee-prep zen routine in my mornings. Plus, a good French press yields a beautiful, full-bodied, strong cup of coffee.
It never fails, though, we always replace the Keurig. But this last Keurig death sent my annoyed husband down another path. Nespresso. It even feels good in your mouth when you say it, Nespresso.
The machine is black and sleek. The coffee pods come in colorful round little cups that feel good and weird in your hands. There are all sorts of choices of espresso, double espresso, short coffees, tall coffees. And fancy flavors too like Firenze Arpeggio and Genova Livanto. We even got the coolest little milk frother. It’s as quiet as a mouse and whips up the most elegant froth. It harkens me back to my Starbs days of slinging coffee. Except now, all I have to do is push a couple buttons. Ahhhh technology!
So, as I’m sitting at my desk this morning, watching the sky attempt to blue, and seagulls drifting over the channel on light currents of wind, I’m sipping a large blue ceramic mug of beautiful coffee. It’s 7.7 ounces of Stormio deliciousness poured expertly over professionally steamed oat milk with a generous drizzle of honey. Cinnamon and nutmeg freshly grated on top. This is the stuff of my dreams. This is home.
It’s making me nostalgic. Memories of coffee aromas and Gram at her little house up on M Avenue here in Anacortes. Just a few minutes away from where I live, for now. In fact, this is another moving year for us. Away from my ancestors who settled parts of this area. Away from Gram’s little house a few minutes away. I thought I would live out my years here, but alas, it’s time to go.
The place we are going has been home to me too. I grew up in Bellingham. All of my years of school were in Bellingham, including a year at the University.
Specifically, we are moving to Fairhaven. A lovely and charming area in town where I had always wished we lived when I was a kid. It’s like I’m rolling down a lifelong bucket list in double time: Live in Anacortes. Live in Fairhaven. Find and marry the great love of my life. It’s a little whirlwind-y, and also pretty dang amazing. Still, all of these things greatly impact my home space.
It’s a good thing I’ve learned to create a here-is-home, home space for myself. And that includes Greg now. And our creatures. Wherever we are together, that is home.
There is no question at all that Nespresso will be accompanying us. With its dreamy, creamy, bold and beautiful cups of coffee. Then, around the bend, in what will feel like an age and a half and also no time at all, I’ll be waking up in another warm house to the smell of coffee. And I’ll know for certain, that once again, I’m home.
If you love or hate coffee, if you have lived in a place for decades or you are sort of nomadic like me, let’s tuck into our home spaces, and let’s be friends~