Coffee: Origins

Oh, not like the origins of coffee itself… I don’t think I’m qualified to talk on such a thing. I mean my personal origins with coffee.

This blog and I have had an on and off relationship for twelve years now, so I had to do a search to make sure I’m not doing a repeat topic (check the new “search” bar I added for my own personal use). What I found was a post from when I started drinking coffee daily, and a post about the nostalgia of a good cup of Dunkin Donuts pumpkin spice coffee, but no origin story of how I started drinking coffee in the first place!

It all started with my mom’s distaste for “junk food” and my dad’s love for sneaking around to get honey buns and and donut sticks when she wasn’t looking. Sometimes, he would invite me to go with him on a gas station run to go get sweets. Looking back, I wonder if he chose the gas station because $10 at the gas station would look way less sketchy to mom than $10 at McDonalds when she was reviewing the credit card bill. It was there at the gas station that I started getting gas station “cappuccinos” (aka caramel hot chocolate with perhaps a splash of espresso).

For a while, gas station cappuccinos were the only form of coffee in my life, and I’d say I was pretty passionate about them. I would tell my older relatives how I now enjoyed coffee especially cappuccinos, to which they would seem surprised and impressed until they gathered from me that I was talking about cappuccinos from the machine at the gas station. “That isn’t quite the same…” they would start to say, but then they would change their mind and decide not to burst my twelve year old self’s bubble by telling me that I was not in fact as grown up as I thought I was…

Then came the weekend my older sister Bobbie got married. It was a wedding in Savannah, GA, half way between where she lived and my parents lived. We spent a few days there to prepare for the wedding, do the rehearsal dinner, etc. and there was a very cool coffee shop right by the venue. It sported various mismatched comfy chairs, lots of light from floor to ceiling windows, exhibits from local artists. We spent a lot of time there that weekend, and I think it was my first real exposure to a true coffee shop. I loved the vibe (I still love it… I’ve been there as an adult multiple times, in fact I’m not sure if I’ve been to any other coffee shop in Savannah. Gallery Espresso.)

I was confident when I ordered my first drink at Gallery Espresso. I walked up to the counter and ordered a cappuccino, my specialty drink. I was quite surprised at the tiny cup it arrived in, and even more surprised at how bitter it was! Come to find from my coffee expert brother-in-law Nick, true cappuccinos don’t have any added sugar in them and the gas station version is a completely different breed. I found the true cappuccino to be disgusting. But, I wanted to be molded to the form of a cool coffee shop goer, and so I drank it. And the next day I had another, which somehow didn’t taste quite as bad. And that trajectory has continued to present day me who drinks at least a cup of black coffee every morning.

Though on occasion I try to drink a cup of gas station coffee on a road trip out of nostalgia, the taste is pretty disgusting to me now… whether a cappuccino from the machine or straight black from the drip. Sometimes I think I’ve become too much of a coffee snob. Sometimes ignorance is bliss with these sorts of things, then you can enjoy everything in life. Why be a sommelier if it means you won’t be able to enjoy “Two Buck Chuck” wine anymore?

Anyways… I digress. If you are a coffee drinker, I’d love to hear your “origin story” in the comments! Or, if you don’t drink coffee, but perhaps you drink something else (tea? diet coke? wine? kombucha?) tell me about that!

Love Biscuits

*This post written by Abbie*

So, my boyfriend Cody came and visited me last weekend. This is a big deal as we haven’t seen each other for a few weeks and really missed each other. It was Sunday morning, and we had planned on hanging out all day together before we separated ways (I had to work a wedding all day on Saturday). I thought, “How can I be an awesome girlfriend this morning? I know, I will make him some biscuits!” (Cooking is a big deal for me…)

I looked through my supplies: Bisquick (LOL you thought I was making this from scratch?!), milk? Hmmm. I have almond milk…good enough!, biscuit cutter? I found one in the shape of a heart (bonus points!!!!!), recipe? Let’s see what good ‘ole Betty (Crocker) has to say about making biscuits!

Well naturally Betty wanted me to use a lot of butter. She said she wanted me to chunk up a stick of butter and lightly toss it with a fork in bisquick… I don’t know, I was really confused. I ended up just trying to squish up the butter because I wasn’t trying to fry butter or anything! I then added some almond milk, mixed it some, then dumped it on a wax sheet and smushed it all down. I was using the heart cutter and putting them on the sheet when Cody knocked on the door. I told him I wasn’t opening the door yet (I didn’t want to ruin the surprise!!) I quickly finished up and threw them in the oven and hid the evidence (kind of).

I had set a timer on my iPhone for 9 minutes (as suggested) and opened the door. He was curious about the surprise awaiting him. After a few minutes of talking, I wanted to check on the ‘big surprise’ with a minute or two before they were supposed to be done.

OH NO!! They look like they are burning! I quickly open the oven to pull them out; I didn’t have a mitt to take them out so I was attempting to pull them out with a hand towel, but I had quickly shoved them in the back earlier. In my rush, I burned myself and said the kind version of bad words. Then as that happened the fire alarm went off!! As I was yelling trying to open the door to air out the room, my stupid Twinkle alarm on my phone went off….

Well. After yelling random things and bickering I finally got the biscuits out of the oven. They were more like bricks than biscuits, but I still didn’t want to give up on my efforts. I put some on a plate for Cody with some butter and jelly. Cody, being the sweet person he is, said they didn’t look too bad. Then I turned them around…. And he died laughing. He appreciated the gesture…

Well friends, the morale of the story is that substitutions don’t work very well. Even Bisquick biscuits are hard…but it’s the thought that counts!

 

 

 

The Large Sum of Money

Once upon a time, Ruthie’s mom was paranoid that all the banks would shut down, and she advised Ruthie to keep a large sum of cash hidden away in case terrible things happened.

So Ruthie put a large sum of cash in an ugly fuzzy sock. She kept this sock tucked away in her sock drawer.

“You are going to lose that,” said Autumn. “You should just put that in the bank”.

But Ruthie kept it in the ugly fuzzy sock that she never wore.

One month later, all the girls moved out of their apartment.

Boy, had they accumulated a lot of unnecessary junk over 3 years.

They filled 5 bags full of old puzzles, Halloween costumes, and socks to bring to the Salvation Army. Everyone got rid of a lot of stuff; they were all in a bind to get their things out of there by the deadline.

Ruthie put all her earthly belongings (minus her recent Salvation Army donations) into her parents’ truck and her cute little car, saying “bye bye” to sweet Clemson. She spent the next week unpacking all her things at her parents’ house. But as the week went by, Ruthie began to realize something horrible…She didn’t know where her ugly sock was.

She looked through every trash bag, every suit case, every box, but her large sum of money was missing.

“Oh my gosh… I think I must’ve donated it to the Salvation Army on accident!” Ruthie thought to herself. “I mean, I was in such a rush to move out, and that sock is awful ugly! I must have gotten rid of it.”

Ruthie felt horrible. She felt like the most terribly irresponsible person in the world. Young adult? Yeah right! Ruthie told no one about her predicament. With waiting tables all Summer, she would make up for her loss. No one had to know about her awful mistake.

But Ruthie has to share things with her girls! So one night, a few months later, Ruthie confessed to Katelyn and Chaela about her loss of the large sum of money. It felt good to get off her chest and to be able to laugh about it. Yes, Ruthie was terribly irresponsible, but life is more than money. Sometimes Ruthie freaks out about money too much, and this was God’s funny way of showing her that He is in control of such things.

Ruthie didn’t tell Autumn about her loss, because she was scared of what Autumn would think and knew Autumn would make fun of her (sorry Autumn, but you would have. You told Ruthie multiple times she wold lose it. And you know what? You were right!).

A few weeks later, Autumn came over to Ruthie’s house to help clean and organize Ruthie’s room. They wanted to hang a picture on the wall, so Autumn brought down Ruthie’s tool box to get the hammer and nails.

“Ewww, Ruth. You are so gross! You have an old sock in your toolbox. This better not be dirty!” exclaimed Autumn.

“Oh. My gosh, Autumn. That sock has a whole lot of money in it..” said a relieved, grateful, and shocked Ruthie.

And then Ruthie admitted the whole story to Autumn. And then she told her dad. Who told her mom, who was hopefully not too ashamed. And then Ruthie told you, because she’s crazy.

But don’t go searching through her sock drawer, because Ruthie brought that money to the bank (and gave some of it to charity. Because obviously, with a story like this, some of that money needed to go to charity!).

Moral of the story: It might be good to keep some money outside of the bank, but if you know you are prone to losing things, think twice about it!

Let’s Just Say It Involves The Police

Once Upon a time (*cough* yesterday *cough*),

Autumn and Ruth took a lovely stroll around a university that shall remain unnamed.They walked; they talked; they tried locked doors, and altogether had a glorious time on that empty summer campus. But on the way back to the parking lot, they saw something mighty suspicious…

A girl, who looked to be in her twenties, was trying to open the hatch of Autumn’s car, Oliver.

Now, Autumn and Ruth have both had those “oops I accidently  tried to open this vehicle, but it’s not actually mine” moments, but this girl seemed excessively freaked out when she saw Autumn and Ruth walking her way. She quickly moved towards her boyfriend who was about twenty yards away and up to some suspicious activity himself.

He was hunched down and situated between two cars, one of which was quite nice and sporty looking. He had both of the cars’ doors open and appeared to be doing something in the driver’s side of the sporty one.

“They could have car troubles” Ruth thought to herself “Or they could be, you know, Hotwiring it!“

Autumn and Ruth walked with haste to Oliver, Ruth with her head down and Autumn observing everything, and they drove away.

“Should we call someone?” they debated.

“That was super sketch.”

After a few minutes, Autumn handed Ruth the phone with the university police number on it.

“Call if you think you should,” said Autumn, who has a strong sense of justice but is scared of making phone calls.

“Eh. Okay. What the heck,” said Ruth, whose sense of civic responsibility is rather small, but who also talks on the phone quite frequently.

She dialed.

As she awkwardly tried to explain the suspicious activity they observed using a lot more “ums” than necessary, Ruth heard the lady on the other line talking to someone else.

“Hold on, I think we have a witness to the theft on the phone!”

Next thing Autumn and Ruth knew, they were back at the college explaining to an officer everything they had seen. The officer took their heights, weights, hair and eye colors, addresses and phone numbers.

Turned out the car was stolen and then abandon, thieves unfound.

The description of the car takey people and their vehicle will not be disclosed, so that you don’t start suspecting your BFF Jill of being a car thief. (“OMG. Suzie has a tye dye shirt too… I’ve seen it.)

Autumn and Ruth drove home a bit later than expected that night, but they still made it to Panera before closing, and that’s all that matters.

They have still not been called to do a line-up, but Autumn and Ruth think that’s a good thing considering they probably wouldn’t recognize the law breakers anyways.

How Ruthie Became a Responsible Driver: The Seventeenth Birthday

You may have heard the stories– the stories of Ruthie driving irresponsibly, at times putting herself or others in danger and damaging property. All of these stories occurred before this particular story- the story of how Ruth became a responsible driver.

“Let’s drive to Charleston, stay at your sister’s house and go to the beach!” suggested Autumn.

Ruthie was turning seventeen, and the beach seemed like a fun spontaneous way to celebrate, and fun and spontaneous it was!

The two young and untraveled girls made the three hour trek to Ruth’s sister’s place in Charleston. Sixteen-year-old Ruth was the anxious and excited driver. They had an uneventful drive (except for a casual U-turn or so), and made it safely there. That evening they played games, enjoyed the kiddos, ate delicious food- all the usual “Ruthie’s awesome family” activities.

Now I know this story seems to be going nowhere, but bear with me. Some serious shiznit goes down soon.

The next day was Ruthie’s birthday, so she and Autumn headed to the beach for the morning. Autumn was sunburnt, so she lathered in sunscreen, put on a t-shirt, stood in the shade and watched as Ruthie jumped up and down in the waves for an hour. This probably wasn’t too exciting for Autumn, but she was a good sport- it was Ruthie’s birthday after all.

But best friend, family, good food, and beach were not enough fun for Ruthie’s birthday. Oh no- Ruthie had to plan dinner with all the friends she could think of that night back in Aiken (where Ruthie is from). Dinner was set for 5 O’clock. This time was awful early- but they had to make it for half-priced sushi time at Redbowl!

So Ruthie and Autumn didn’t stay at the beach long, had a rushed but yummy lunch of  homemade tomato soup, and headed out the door at around 2.

‘I got this! If we go straight to the restaurant from here, we’ll make it. Can’t be late, can’t be late, can’t be late.’ thought Ruth as they drove away. She knew if she sped just a little they should make it on time. Ruthie does not like to be late.

Soon it started to drizzle. Then rain. Then downpour torrentially.

So much for speeding a little… After an hour of this slow rain traffic, Ruthie was getting really anxious and upset. Things were not going according to plan- they were going to be so late. Everyone would be stuck waiting for them!

And then the sun came out.

‘I am going to make it’ thought Ruth, as she began to speed like a cheetah on Adderall. ‘Nobody drives on these country back roads anyways’.

But there was someone driving on those country back roads-

A cop.

Ruth’s heart leapt into her throat as she saw his car come into view, as she saw his lights flash red and blue.

He was not a happy man. Ruth had been going 23 mph over the speed limit.

“What would you have done if a deer had jumped in front of you going that fast?!” he demanded.

“Uhhh, died I guess…” replied Ruth stupidly. She was trying so hard not to cry, everyone says to cry when you get pulled over to get out of tickets, but Ruth would not. She was NOT going to cry in front of this man. Her pride would not allow it.

She succeeded in not crying in front of him. She also succeeded in getting $400 worth of tickets-$365 for speeding, and $35 for wearing her seatbelt under her armpit.

‘What are my parents going to think? How will I pay for it? The insurance is going to go up even more? What if I had killed us? Autumns parents are going to freak! No way we’ll make it in time now.’

Ruth had to stop by the nearest Burger King to cry, gain some composure, and call her Dad.

*sniff sniff* “dadeeigottaticketaahhh”

“Who is this?”

“itsMEigottaticket. IwasSPEEDINGstupidbad.” Cry cry cry

“Hahaha! Well pull yourself together before getting on the road again!”

Ruth’s dad thought it was kind of funny… Autumn did too- she had never seen Ruthie cry before, so it was a very pivotal moment of their relationship. Autumn took videos so they could keep the memory alive…

Ruthie drove the speed limit all the way to Redbowl, where they met Katelyn for dinner. Katelyn didn’t mind meeting at 6:00 instead of 5:00, and everyone else had bailed anyways. Ruthie had a good birthday dinner with friends, despite paying full price for sushi.

The three girls slept at Ruthie’s that night.  Ruth drank away her sorrows with sparking grape juice (really- sparkling grape juice. Not a euphemism for some other special drink.), as she processed the days lessons and thanked God for great friends.

From that day forward she was a responsible driver, whom any passenger can trust with their very lives. She also became more easy-going, and stopped wearing her seatbelt under her armpit!

This post written for the Weekend Funny Challenge. Hopefully it turned out to be atleast slightly humorous! If not I can always post the video of Ruthie crying and calling her father…

On Getting in an Accident With a State Trooper. Twice.

Once upon a time,

Ruth was a bad driver.

But she isn’t any more. Nowadays she the most responsible and excellent of license holders.

This is an account of one of the bad-driving occurrences of long ago:

 

It was a school day, in the early spring. What day of the week cannot be recalled, though it is likely recorded in a journal of some sort. Ruth, the month old driver, was on her way to pick up Jonathan, the 6^th grade boy whom she was entrusted to take to school. Sitting in the passenger seat was her Tupperware container of lettuce. (A lesson Ruth learned in high school, besides to look where you drive, was that lettuce and a carrot is not a good lunch.)

As Ruth pulled behind a silver Dodge Charger at the stop-sign by the Mexican church, this Tupperware container fell on the floor. Of course the top popped off and lettuce spilled all over the ground.

Ruth was one minute away from Jonathan’s house. Her dignity would not allow her to let Jonathan see the lettuce all over the floor. He’d find out she wasn’t good at putting lids on things! How embarrassing. So, Ruth leaned over, picking up all the little lettuce pieces, stretching to reach the ones in the furthest corner. After all, it usually took forever for a clear space at this particular stop sign. She figured she had time.

Just as a lobster doesn’t notice the slowly rising temperature as it gets cooked, Ruth did not notice her foot slowly lifting off the brake, until…

BAM!

Ruth was shocked. Had she really just hit someone? Her car, Elvis, had never been in an incident before… So much for that record.

She got out of the car, rushing towards the driver of the Dodge. It was an angry, short woman in a State Trooper uniform. Ruth didn’t really blame her for being angry… The two assessed the damage.

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry…” apologized Ruth, almost in tears.

“There’s no damage. Let’s just go.” said the angry yet gracious woman.

So they got back in their vehicles, the incident soon to be forgotten.

Six months later…

Ruth was driving to school on her way to pick up Jonathan, the now 7^th grader. She pulled up behind a silver Dodge Charger at the stop-sign beside the Mexican church. The Charger let off its brakes and began to turn right.  Ruth let off Elvis’ brakes, looking left to see if it was clear for her to turn as well.

BAM!

The Charger had decided last minute not to turn. Ruth was horrified; this was Elvis’ fifth collision. Before long she would lose count.

Ruth rushed out of Elvis, approaching the driver of the Charger. The short woman was angry. Ruth didn’t blame her.

“I’m so so sorry… “ said Ruth, almost in tears.

“Let’s look at the damage.” said the woman in the State Trooper uniform.

And damage there was.

“I’ll call it in.” said the lady.

“They’re on their way.” said the woman after her conversation with the police.

Ruth and the woman moved their cars to the Mexican church parking lot, and awaited the police. The thought of police made Ruth really nervous; she had never dealt with them before as she had only had small collisions with trees, fences and such. She called Jonathan, and her parents to let them know what was going on. The highway patrol was taking a while; she was going to be very late to school.

Before long, Ruth and the short woman began making small talk.

“They really need to put a light there. This road is just too busy. This is my second time having an incident at this intersection.” said the short angry woman in the State Trooper uniform.

“Oh my gosh… This really is a bad intersection. It’s my second incident here too!” Thought Ruth to herself.

She was about to voice this thought, when the obvious dawned on her. This was the same woman I hit last time! And she doesn’t recognize me!

Ruth held her tongue.

Getting recognized probably wouldn’t help her case… Good thing she chose that day to wear a hat!

And thus ends the telling of how Ruth hit the same state trooper twice at the same stop sign. Ruth ended up getting ticketed, and going to court. Her insurance went up a Lot. Sadly, this little event did not result in Ruth becoming a responsible driver. That happens in a different story.

Cold. Naked. Wet. No Towel.

I sought a place to clear my head, where the answer could be found

This place took the form of a shower

The hot water to be the catalyst encouraging thought formation

What to write about today?

The reaction occurred slowly with no suitable products

The catalyst instead stimulated thoughts of brownies, and butterflies

Also thoughts of summer. Always thoughts of summer

No answers to the question:

What to write about today?

So I stopped the reaction, with a twist of the knob

The heat stopped, the coldness took over its place

Cold catalyzes reactions such as blanket snuggling and slipper wearing

Warmth must be found, and warmth I intended to seek, although

Dilemma!

Where was my towel???

It was not hanging trusty and comforting in its spot

Contemplating what to do, cool water dripping off my body

Getting colder, colder, colder

Nothing to dry off or cover with

Warmth must be sought!

Activation energy reached

Opened the door

Looking both ways before crossing

The way seeming clear, prayed for no onlookers

Dashed to the place of warm blankets, slippers, and towels

SUCCESS!

Seems that coldness, not warmth, catalyzes the answer to the question:

What to write about today?