Good morning!

Just prepared my cup of coffee ... without which the morning wouldn't really start. I've got a large Starbucks transparent mug filled to the brim with delicious caffeine, a sprinkle of sugar and a splash of cream. Yum.

Tiny sips is the secret to truly appreciating my morning coffee. Some days I've made a better cup than others. This morning's is especially tasty. Brings me back to slurping coffee out of a saucer with my Grandpa M ... couldn't have been older than three cause he died before I was four.

It's a sensory memory ... I can taste Gramma M's coffee, hot and creamy. I can feel the bone chain handle in my fingers as well as the saucer. And ... I can hear the slurping sound that Grandpa M had me convinced was necessary to be a real "caffetta" lover. But I don't "see" anything. I don't have to ... this love affair I have with my morning coffee is a taste thing.

Rarely do I have more than one cup ... choosing to sip away at my large mug until there's nothing left which usually is mid-afternoon or later. Seems my addiction, my habit is appeased with that first sip.

Am I a slave to my morning coffee? In some ways I am. If I'm at home, with all the makings of the perfect cup ... I have to have my coffee. If I'm elsewhere, dependent on Timmie's or someone else's brew ... I could take it or leave it. My love of coffee has less to do with coffee as it has to do with recreating that taste, reliving that memory.

Today's cup was just right ... let's hope it' forebodes the rest of the day!