I'd almost completely given up my daily coffee habit, and found myself starting to feel guilty about the once or twice a week (if that) I would indulge. I told myself that I didn't need coffee.
I was right.
I don't need it.
I want it.
I like it.
Not only do I enjoy drinking the coffee, but I enjoy the art of making it.
There's something about waking up and brewing a fresh batch of coffee. The house fills with smells of morning. From the grinding of the bean to the boiling of the water, I enjoy the process I go through to brew my coffee in the french press.
There are other reasons why I love making and drinking coffee...
When I use my french press, I'm reminded of my husbands sweetness. There was this day where I dropped my french press on the floor and the glass carafe broke. I posted a picture on social media, sort of mourning my coffee carafe. My hubby saw the picture and went to Target on his lunch break that same day and bought a new carafe for me. He presented it to me when he got home and I was so surprised and elated that he'd thought to do something so sweet (told you, I love my coffee!). So I think about him when I make my morning brew.
Then there's the cup, or cups. My grandmother always had quite a few pretty tea cups and saucers, and some mornings, I feel like I'm channeling my grandmother through the use of pretty tea cups and saucers. I also get to fill my cup several times, because the tea cups only hold so much... My cup ends up being 'full' more than not. :)
So while I struggle with the notion of having given up coffee in leu of my sweet morning shakes, it's just not totally true. And that's okay.