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That first cup...

You know when that first sip of freshly brewed coffee hits your soul? You know… that moment when it hits you and you think, “no matter what happens today, I’m going to be okay. The world my explode but because of this single, incredibly delicious cup of coffee, I’m going to be okay.”

Alright, I know I’m being just a tad bit dramatic but if that doesn’t tell you how much I love coffee, then I quit. I get that soul-filling feeling every morning when I drink my first cup of coffee. Notice how I say first, because one can’t have a single cup of coffee. The second cup usually follows my accomplishment of finishing up the morning farm chores. It’s almost as if it’s my reward for being a farmer. In fact, I don’t know if I’ve ever met a farmer who doesn’t drink coffee.

I like to attribute my love for coffee from my grandma, or Nana as I call her. I remember going to Starbucks with Nana as a little kid. She’d always let me get some sort of special treat. Nana was the Starbucks queen (I know you coffee enthusiasts are rolling your eyes right now because Starbucks is nothing compared to the “good stuff”). But Nana, oh man, Nana went everyday and even now, I don’t know that I’d prefer to go a morning without coffee.

Even as much as I’d like to think otherwise, coffee is one of the first things on my mind when my eyes open. Of course, as any farmer would know, unless you set up the brewer the night before, coffee is not first on the list. ANIMALS. Animals I tell ya. Animals are the first on the list. After all, those goats will 100% try to escape the pasture if I don’t feed them first and boy do they love to tell me how hungry they are every morning. "Blah! You don't feed me enough! Can't you see I'm starving?!" So, after the goats and chickens and ducks and dogs and cats (and I’m out of breath) get their breakfast, I get my sweet, creamy, piping hot cup of coffee. Then, while I sip that sweet, sweet nectar of life (again with the drama Megan, sheesh!), I make breakfast for the humans, pack lunches and somehow fit in a load of dishes or sweeping before it’s off to work and the farmer hat changes to the corporate hat. But for just a split second of the morning, I enjoy that cup of coffee and the life that we’ve created.

Even in the still, dark mornings, that cup of coffee reminds me that I love our cozy little home. I love our farm. And I love being a farmer.


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1 Comment

I completely agree! And the saddest moment of all is the last sip of that coffee! (Gee, I wonder where you get the drama from? )

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