I’ve written quite a bit about coffee, so it seems fitting to highlight the coffee bar, it’s magic, and staying in that magic.
In the post Wide Open Spaces, the coffee bar was dismantled to allow room for a work related project. That was in September and the project was complete mid October, and then it became simply space. I’d walk by and try new things with it, but it always looked cluttered, and nothing seemed to fit. We didn’t know what to call it, and I’d refer to it as ‘what used to be the coffee bar’. That was a weird mouthful of words.
Then, one day my daughter referred to it as, ‘the coffee bar’, and I knew immediately what she was talking about. It was destined to be.
Reassembling it this week, I saw where I crossed the line before. What began as a coffee bar, fell over into a beverage bar and housed coffee and tea. Our hot tea collection has grown this year, so I left it in the kitchen on the tea cart. Everything on the coffee bar relates only to coffee, well, except for the flowers. 😊 The top level remains empty for creative space.
Life is tricky, and we need to stay in our magic. Tell me a magical part of your life. I missed the coffee bar whenever I walked by and saw it empty. Now, I get to stand there once again and feel the magic of the coffee bar.
I’ve been using the pour over coffee dripper for my coffee each morning for a while now. It offers flexibility in cup size, and on Monday we go big.
It will fill any size cup you choose to sit under it. You just have to measure the right amount of water for the size of the cup. This morning, I measured 16 ounces of water for the gooseneck kettle, knowing this cup could hold it, but I’ve miscalculated before and that was messy.
One morning I grabbed a large mug thinking it was just as big as this one and treated it the same way, with 16 ounces of water. I allow time for the dripper to drain in between pours, so after the third and final pour, I walked into the next room. A few minutes later I went back into the kitchen for my coffee, only to find it pouring over the rim of the mug onto the chopping block.
It had poured over alright!
Thank God the spill had stayed on the chopping block, but I must have crossed the 16 ounce line. It’s times like these you go with what you know and make sure your Monday cup is cleaned on Sunday night.
The coffee dripper adds mystery to my morning. I’m never quite sure what I’m going to get. It calls for the water measurement to be precise, but I’m doing good just to get the water into the measuring cup much less read the lines. It’s when I cross the line that life gets messy.
I have an email to send this morning, and it feels like I may be crossing the line. That’s not going to stop me from sending it because I don’t live my life in the safe zone. When God opens the door of opportunity, communication can be awkward at first, but we don’t really know where the lines are, if any, until we cross them.