Poetry Friday: Masks, and Fauci, and Coffee, Oh, My

Sooooo, I've posted a few times recently about masks on Facebook because, well, mask-wearing during a pandemic is just good scientific sense, and Anthony Fauci is my man.

Thanks, Jama Rattigan, for leading us to the bobblehead. 

(And no, I don't care how he throws a baseball.)

This mask is your basic, utilitarian pandemic gear:

However, my pal Tabatha (of The Opposite of Indifference fame) sent a link to a mask that she said made her think of me. (And with friends like Tabatha, one needn't worry about the friends on Facebook who have unfriended one for talking about masks.) 

Who could have imagined a mask that combines allusions to Gregorian chant, Psalm 130, and coffee? Someone did. And their "Out of the Depths I Have Cried for Coffee" mask reminded me of an ode to coffee that I wrote a few years ago. (My daughters mock me for calling 13-year chunks of time "a few years," but oh, just wait, daughters. Someday you'll understand the wibbly-wobbly that is time.) 

And so, with Poetry Friday just 45 minutes away as I type this, I give you my love song to coffee: 

How Do I Love Thee, Coffee? Let Me Count the Ways

(with my sincere apologies to Elizabeth Barrett Browning ....)

by Karen Edmisten 

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

My cup can reach.

I love thee to the level of every day's

most quiet need (which is to start the day with you.)

I love thee freely (as I strive to awaken.)

I love thee purely (as one who is addicted.)

I love thee with a passion (which is embarrassing.)

I love thee with a love I seemed to lose

when I was pregnant

and had morning sickness,

but my love is so strong

it was reclaimed when all sickness had passed.

I love thee with the breath (though coffee breath be not pleasant)

with the Smiles, tears, of all my life!

and, if God choose,

I shall but love thee better after death,

for surely there is coffee in Heaven.

~~~~~~~~~~

Join Margaret at Reflections on the Teche for the Poetry Friday round-up. 

Poetry Friday: Coffee, How Do I Love Thee?

I've been sick with a cold all week. That means, yes, you can feel sorry for me, and yes, I've been operating on partial-fuzz-brain, so I've relied heavily on coffee. (Oh, let's be honest...when do I not rely heavily on coffee? This week was no different than any other week, except that it involved a larger number of Kleenex boxes and lot of coughing.)

At any rate, my coffee dependency made me think of this poem I wrote way back in 2007.

Happy Poetry Friday, happy coffee drinking, and here's to health!


How Do I Love Thee, Coffee? Let Me Count the Ways 
by Karen Edmisten
(with sincere apologies to Elizabeth Barrett Browning)

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My cup can reach.

I love thee to the level of everyday's
most quiet need (which is to start the day with you.)

I love thee freely (as I strive to awaken.)
I love thee purely (as one who is addicted.)
I love thee with a passion (which is embarrassing.)

I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
when I was pregnant
(and had morning-noon-and-night sickness)
but my love is so strong
it was reclaimed when all sickness had passed.

I love thee with the breath (though coffee breath be not pleasant)
with the Smiles, tears, of all my life!

and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death,
for surely there is coffee in Heaven.

~~~~~

Carol Varsalona has the round up this week at Beyond Literacy Link. 

Ramona Creates

We decorated coffee cups:

Ramona's Kermit the Frog quote cup is much kinder than my cup. 

And she made Minnie Mouse ears:

Even I want to wear these. 

I really, really, really just wanted a cup of hot coffee

My friend, Paula, and her daughter are visiting. The daughter is one of Ramona's besties, so when the family's in town, we temporarily adopt Paula's daughter (whom I'm going to blog-name Miranda Sings for reasons that will probably mortify her mother. Paula, I'm blog-renaming you Miranda's Mother. No arguing.)

So, since I have twelve-year-old twins this week, and I hate cooking anyway, and I didn't feel like cooking, naturally I took everyone out for some disgusting fast food.

I won't target the particular fast food chain, but here's how things unfolded:

Ramona and Miranda and Anne and Betsy ordered some food and stepped aside.

Me? Well, though I hate cooking, I hate eating fast food even more, so I decided to just get coffee. I planned to eat something later at home while I complained to Atticus about cooking and the evils of fast food.

I said to the girl who worked at the evil fast food place, "Do you have any coffee brewed?"

She shook the coffee pot (I could hear some lame, cold coffee swishing around in there) and said, "Yeah, there's a little bit left here."

"Okay," I said, "Here's the thing. I'll have a coffee, but I can wait until you brew a fresh pot."

"Okaaaay," she said, blinking. I should have detected the beginning of confusion.

She started piling food on the tray, while I dug out a credit card. When I looked up from my wallet, there sat a cup of coffee in front of me. Unless I had just stepped into a wormhole, this was the old coffee, not the "I'll wait for it" coffee.

Ramona and Miranda, et al, got their tray and settled in at a table, and I caught the counter girl's attention.

"Okay, so, can I just give this back to you, and I'll wait for the fresh stuff?"

"What?" she squinted at me.

"Well, this is lukewarm -- I'll just wait while you start a new pot."

"It's too warm?"

"No, it's lukewarm."

She squinted again.

"It's not warm," I said. "Not warm."

She cocked her head, her mouth hanging slightly open.

"It's not hot. Isn't hot," I said, grasping for something that expressed not-hot more simply than, well, say, "not hot."

"It's unhot. I'd like a hot cup of coffee, so I'll wait."

"Do you want it in a cup?"

"Yes, a cup would be nice." (I may have been nodding desperately at this point.)

"Okay. I'll have to brew some."

I nodded again. Emphatically. "Ok, sure, that's a good idea," I said. "I'll be at that table over there, okay?" My eyes were wide, and probably wild. Had we fully established contact? Would a hot cup of coffee be forthcoming?

She blinked and turned away in the general direction of the coffee pot.

A couple minutes later, she brought me a coffee.

In a cup.

And it was hot.

I'm pretty sure someone probably spit in it, but it was really hot. Maybe even lukehot.

Grateful

What, you were expecting a turkey? 

Happy Thanksgiving!

So grateful for so much.

May your day be filled with every good thing (including coffee.)

Poetry Friday: This Magic Moment by David Kirby

I have a poem delivered to my Inbox every morning, thanks to Poets.org and I'm always grateful for the beauty this sleek little package adds to my day. I consider, at times, what a mess the internet can be -- the ugliness it puts on display, the unkindness that can be spread, the fights that are started on its playgrounds, the temptations it can stir up in us to prove to the whole world that we are right and they are wrong.

But then, but then ... it can also do this.

It can bring me a poem a day. Gently drop off a bit of loveliness, a dash of magic.

And I love it for that. Because you can never have too much coffee (no, coffee's not mentioned in the poem -- that's my addition),  too much poetry, or too much magic.

This Magic Moment
by David Kirby

Poetry does make things happen. A friend says, “I wanted
to let you know that my stepfather is chattering like
a schoolboy about a poem of yours on my Facebook page.
This may not seem like much to you, but this guy has been
giving me a hard time since I was two. You built a bridge
between people who never understood each other before.”
How’d that happen? Magic, that’s how. I know the poem
....

(Read the rest here, at Poets.org.)

~~~~~

The Poetry Friday round up is at Tapestry of Words.

Poetry Friday, Sort Of

If you have the chance 

To see Lemony Snicket

Know that he's worth

The price of the ticket. 

          -- Karen Edmisten 

Confession the First: We didn't actually pay for a ticket. The event was free.

Confession the Second: I have read only the first book, The Bad Beginning, in A Series of Unfortunate Events.

Confession the Third: I would never have gone to see Lemony Snicket (because I had not even finished the first book -- I did that just last night) aka Daniel Handler, nor would I have planned to stand in line for 90 minutes in order to have my newly-purchased copy of a book I've never read signed by the man, if not for the fact that my two older daughters and the son of one of my best friends loved A Series of Unfortunate Events. This combined love, which spans the ages -- from a nine-year-old boy to 18 and 20-year-old young women -- led me to think that a road trip could be a fun thing and would be a good excuse to drink a lot of coffee at night.

Confession the Fourth: I did not have late night coffee. I grabbed a Coke for the drive home because I do not trust McDonald's to have freshly brewed coffee at 9:30 p.m. and, alas, McDonald's was the most convenient stop. I do not, in fact, trust McDonald's for much of anything, but no one can really mess up a Coke too badly, unless they add far too much ice. Which they did.

Confession the Fifth: My favorite part of the night may in fact have had nothing to do with Snickety happenings. I was extremely tired, and our eta home was about 11:15 p.m. My daughters had promised to talk and sing loudly on the drive home so that we'd all stay awake. I requested that they sing "Frozen."

What I really meant was that I wanted them to sing "Let it Go" but I was tired and the request came out, "Sing Frozen." So they did -- as in, they belted out the entire soundtrack* starting with the movie's opener, the Norse chant of the ice workers, and finishing up with the reprise of "For the First Time in Forever."

I think my favorite rendition was when Betsy and Ramona did "Love is an Open Door," complete with the overlapping duet parts.

But back to Lemony Snicket, because, theoretically anyway, he is what this post is about.

Daniel Handler is a thoroughly entertaining presenter and if you get the chance to go to one of his book signings, you most certainly should.

But do plan on something better than McDonald's coffee for the drive home. And be sure to take my girls with you to keep you awake.

~~~~~

*Except the trolls' song, which apparently does not make a home in the brain as do all the other songs.

~~~~~

The Poetry Friday round up today is at The Miss Rumphius Effect. 

Coffee Banner? Why?

Hey guys, Ramona here, guest posting.

You may wonder, “Why the coffee Banner?” and the answer is, she really likes coffee. You may also wonder, “Why does she like coffee?” Well, the answer is, I don’t know, nobody knows. Maybe you should comment and ask her why she likes coffee! I’m sure she would highly appreciate that!

Well, bye everybody!
+Ramona+

How I Decided What to Give Up for Lent

I wasn't sure I was going to blog about this, but as with most of the subjects I write about, I mention it just in case it's helpful to someone else.

On the day before Ash Wednesday, I still hadn't fully settled on what I wanted to/needed to/should do for penance. A few ideas were bouncing around my head.  Coffee occurred to me a few times, but each time I immediately dismissed it as an insane thought. "No," I told myself, "something more meaningful."

Besides -- I didn't want to give coffee up. Please.

I was bouncing around on the internet, too. Reading blogs. And I saw that this sweet reader had taken my ramblings to heart and planned to give up buying any new books through Lent. She had read my "Meaningful Lent" post which said, "If it's a struggle to give it up, we're inordinately attached to it."

And then, I practically heard the word, before I even had time to cross examine myself about my own inordinate attachments:

"Coffee." It was so loud.

The Lord can just be so annoying sometimes. Like when He tells me what I really need to do.

I wanted to swat the word and the thought away, like a fly, like the pesky thing it was. But I knew it was true. I am inordinately attached, and I have never given coffee up for Lent. There was no more dodging it.

So, coffee topped the list of material penances. 

Ash Wednesday went beautifully. Atticus had a lovely cup of tea ready for me first thing in the morning. This won't be so hard, I thought (rather pathetically.) But, ummm, yeah. It got harder. But I've hung in there, thanks to God, and I'm so glad I did.

And why am I talking about it now?

Because it's not too late to try to give up something that you might have considered and rejected as a penance. If you're feeling that you  fudged a little, compromised, chose something easy rather than something that would make you rely on Him instead of "it" (whatever "it" is for you), then there's still time to give that penance a trial run if you want to. We're in Passiontide, and Easter is still almost two weeks away.  That's long enough to feel it, and short enough to survive.  And there's still a Solemnity coming on Thursday, and one more Sunday -- havens (and I do duck in to the havens.)

Giving up coffee has been beneficial for me in so many ways.  I'd love to tell you that I'll be giving it up permanently, that I've seen major health improvements, have lost weight, now adore tea and I just won the lottery.

None of that is true.

I know I'll go back to coffee. But, thanks be to God for several things: for His help, that we can do all things through Christ who strengthens us (Phil. 4:13), and for the Body of Christ as experienced through blogs and readers and the blogs of readers. I know that He can conquer addictions large and small, and on Easter Sunday, I'll have some coffee because I want to, not because I have to.

What kind of coffee are you?

You Are an Espresso

At your best, you are: straight shooting, ambitious, and energetic At your worst, you are: anxious and high strung You drink coffee when: anytime you're not sleeping Your caffeine addiction level: high

What Kind of Coffee Are You?

Thanks to Big A little a for this coffee quiz. I know these fun little quizzes are all over the net, but I hardly ever take the time to complete one. But this one ... well, coffee you know ... I had to.