It was a hairy fellow who first cultivated coffee: Images from breakfast, my bike ride (that's so Wasilla!) and my afternoon break

It was another one of those mornings when I woke up and simply could not bear the thought of cooking oatmeal, one of those days that I felt like I just had to start out of the house, somewhere else. I knew Margie would not want to come and hobble in on her crutches, but I asked her anyway, just in case, but she didn't.

She wanted to sit on the couch and eat Cheerio's.

So, I made certain that she had her Cheerio's and then I headed off to Family Restaurant to have a Denve - 0h Man! I just heard my email "ping," so I went to check and it was a "breaking news" notice from the Anchorage Daily News. Senator Ted Kennedy is dead! Damnit! We need him, now. We really do.

Anyway, there was a table in the corner and I took it, so nobody could shoot me in the back. And this little boy turned around and looked at me. 

He made me think of Kalib, who had long since left for daycare.

As I ate, this man walked past my red Ford Escape, carrying a cup of what I believe to be coffee, although it might have been hot chocolate, for all I know, or tea. It might have even been gasoline, because maybe he had an old 1950 Ford that wouldn't start and he needed to prime the engine. But I am pretty certain it was coffee. I suspect it was black. Unless he was taking it to his wife. Then, perhaps, it had cream in it, and Splenda.

There I am, stereotyping. Maybe he likes cream and sugar and his wife likes it black.

What an assumption on my part.

Perhaps he does not have a wife. Perhaps he lives alone with three cats.

And then again, he might not even like cats. He might live with a dog, a poodle.

Or five hamsters, three goldfish and a pet rattlesnake.

Perhaps he lives with a chimpanzee, and he is taking the coffee to the chimp.

Chimps are known to be big coffee drinkers.

In fact, coffee was first cultivated by chimps.

Not everybody knows this, but it is a true fact.

Two other men pass by my Escape on their way into Family. I believe that they were coming in to buy a bowl of oatmeal for their elephant.

Personally, I don't think one bowl would be enough.

And elephants like bananas, too.

So I hope they bought a lot of bananas.

All right, now I am no longer at Family, but am riding my bike. Don't ask me to explain the above. How would I know?

It's just the normal, everyday kind of thing that one sees here in Wasilla, Alaska.

As Melanie would say, "that's so Wasilla!"

"You have a pretty dog!" I shout at the lady as I pedal past.

"Thank you!" she responds.

"What's the dog's name?" I shout louder, as they fall further behind me.

"Sarah," she screams, just before I go out of hearing range.

So there you have it - Sarah the Dog.

It never ends. It just never ends. Everyday, more of Wasilla falls away.

I spot a calico cat. The calico cat spots me. 

When I get back home, I find Kalib working on his bike. He has been riding 20 to 30 miles every day. He has lost weight. I want to lose weight, too. Well, today's ride should surely help.

Now I am in my car, late in the afternoon, on my coffee break. This is where I bought it - a brand new place called Metro Cafe, where they park cute cars outside. There used to be a dog wash here, but the owners sold out and the new ones tore it down and built this place.

They don't serve breakfast, though. If they did, I wouldn't have gone to Family this morning. I would have walked right in, sat down and ordered eggs, because its always fun to try breakfast at a new place.

They do have a drive through window, so this afternoon I tried it out. The coffee was excellent. Unfortunately for me, I bought an apple fritter to go with it. It was big and sweet and when I discovered this, I told myself I would only eat a small fraction of it but once I started I couldn't stop and so I ate the whole thing and there went all the good that I had done for myself on the bicycle ride.

I finish this day fatter than I began it.

Comments

[grannyj]

Fortunate the kid(s) who live next that absolutely grand birch snag.