Tuesday, January 31, 2012
My definition of sanity:
Over the past two years coffee shops have become my preferred way to ease back into social interaction and civilization. Everyone needs a respite from their daily routine... and since my daily routine often involves a distinct lack of amenities it's not surprising that I gravitate towards couches, baked goods and caffeine whenever I get the chance.
I had coffee shops to look forward to when I hiked the Appalachian Trail... would the next town even have one? Would it actually be good coffee? What would I eat there? Iced or latte? (All of these things could occupy my mind for hours while I walked. Hours!) A few times, I even took a day off from hiking and stayed in town solely because I wanted to spend more time at the local coffee shop (rough life, huh)! I had coffee shops and smoothies to look forward to every time I hiked out of the woods this summer; smelly and dirty I'd plop down in an air conditioned world of almond milk and iced coffee and breathe a sigh of contentment. I'd literally spend an hour's pay on one smoothie... and it was worth it. Right now my favorite spot is a tiny health food store/coffee shop/bakery located one town over from where I work. It's in an ancient building with a tin ceiling and it perches right over water that is rushing towards the Pemigewasset River. The two owners know me by name and sometimes they even let me lick the spatula when they are testing out new frosting in the bakery. It's a lovely place to hide out and enjoy sunlight and watch the water flow by... hiding from the 60 guests currently bursting out of the seams at the lodge I call home.
And so sanity for me is now colored a deep and liquid brown and scented with espresso.
ps: I can't quite tell how many of you are visiting here for the art content and how many only care about hiking and adventure... and who is actually content with the haphazard mix of my life I currently keep throwing at you. So the blog is going to stay as it is and we may as well soak up all the art we can because in two months my life is going to dwindle down to what can fit in a backpack (yes, again). Consider yourself forewarned!
(I'm also soaking up as many lattes as possible until then as well.)