As Everything Keeps Changing, Afternoon Coffee Abides

I'm a bit of a late riser and a slow mover in the morning. Even when I get up at 8 or, very rarely, earlier, I still don't get dressed til after I do a little yoga and sometimes my morning pages, and I don't eat breakfast until about 10. For that reason, I avoid making morning appointments or commitments of any kind. And please don't ask me to morning coffee. I drink tea after breakfast (always at home), coffee in the afternoon.

Before the pandemic, when the early afternoon sun slanted in through the skylight and reached my desk in the corner, I would gather up my computer and whatever I'm working on, get on my bike and pedal to a neighborhood coffee shop to do a bit of work with a lovely latte at my side. Sometimes Craig, my husband, would bike over from his office to join me, if he didn't have an afternoon meeting.

As with everyone else, the covid shut-down completely upended my schedule. 

First, I no longer had the cue of hearing the back door close as hubby went off to work to signal that it was time to get out of bed. Second, well, he's just always home now, so instead of a silent house, I frequently hear the voices of his coworkers virtually gathered in his home office for the occasional meeting—on a schedule that's completely random to me. 

Formerly, the only sounds I would hear at home were those that wafted through the open windows when the weather is fine: the chattering and chirping of birds, the harmonizing of my wind chimes with those of my neighbor, and the assorted human-made sounds of a relatively quiet urban neighborhood. Oh, and the cabinet maker in his garage workshop just up the alley using his power tools. But other than that, it's been pretty quiet on weekdays around here. I rarely play music or the radio during the day.

I find it easy to focus with that kind of background noise, but not so much when there's a meeting going on in the room across the hall. I confess I am too easily distracted, so it doesn't take much.  And there's been no picking up and heading off to the coffee shop for a change of scene to spur my mindset into a more productive mode.

So now you know my excuse for writing so few blog posts in the last 12 months, and for the various zines-in-progress that haven't come to fruition yet.

But what I really wanted to tell you about is how we started our own afternoon coffee-break-at-home tradition a year ago, and how we've come to enjoy it so much that we are not likely to abandon it entirely even as all our favorite spots are gradually opening up again. Besides, some of them still close too early in the afternoon for my schedule, and another has a 90-minute time limit on sitting, which is perfectly reasonable, but does cramp my style a little if I'm just getting into the groove of something I'm working on. 

Our first few weeks of this new at-home coffee practice involved a bit of trial-and-error. We mail-ordered coffee beans from Dogwood Coffee, got out the Hario hand grinder and Moka stove-top espresso pot I bought a few years ago, and started playing barista. I tried to get in touch with my Swedish heritage by calling our coffee break fika, but it felt a little forced and I kinda forgot about it anyway.

I soon discovered that I preferred a pour-over; bought a ceramic pot and cone by Melitta; found that to be too big, and subsequently hunted down a pint-size vintage pitcher on Etsy that's exactly the right size and has a flat top that perfectly fits the Melitta cone (pictured at top). Yay.

I offered hubby some tips on warming milk without scalding it for his latte, using a whisk to stir it while heating, and he proceeded to whisk it into a froth that he was quite proud of.

We continue to support our nearest neighborhood coffee shop, the Riverview Cafe, by purchasing their excellent banana bread to go with our coffee. Occasionally I've made muffins or scones, but we really like their banana bread and so far haven't tired of it, so that continues to be our favorite.

I also found a little serendipitous side benefit of purchasing those bags of coffee beans at a time when I was making pandemic face masks — the wire-and-plastic closure band across the top of the coffee bag made a very nice little topper on the masks to fit them over our noses snugly (which I later figured out how to put in between the layers of cotton). Each coffee bag was good for two face masks. 

Dogwood has since changed the design of their coffee bags and so no more bands for mask making, but I still have a few of them left from all those months of buying beans, which I will hang on to in case we have need of more masks in the future (*sigh*).

I recently overheard one of hubby's meetings in which they were discussing plans for when to return to the office, probably in September, most likely in the form of a hybrid schedule incorporating working at home but going in on certain days for meetings (yay). Perhaps on those days I'll bike to the coffee shop when the weather invites it, and make my pour-over at home when it's not so nice out. 

Like everyone else, we'll keep adapting to changing schedules, and we'll find ways to continue our afternoon coffee breaks one way or another.

Incidentally, I'm writing this at the coffee shop. And my time is almost up.