Coffee....a short story

okay, i thought i could get away from coffee so i TRIED for 5 days. the first day i had the WORST headache, right in the eyes straight through the to the back of my head, arrows on fire! just throbbing all day long into the night, but i did NOT have any coffee. the next day it started backing off and by 3pm on the 2nd day it was gone. COOL this was gonna be easy. i went the whole 5 days w/no coffee! just a 8oz cup of tea in the morning, and an 8oz cup of tea at night, both w/honey.


now that's a HUGE cut in caffeine since i usually make a 12c pot at 8am and drink the whole thing by 2pm and make another about 6pm and drink the whole thing by 10pm. that's alotta damn caffeine! i've done it that way for years and years. and i make a special mix, special extra dark roast either Columbian or Jamaican as those are very strong and smooth, plus i get a very good Peruvian espresso. i use 2 scoops dark roast, and 1 scoop espresso. when that's brewed i pour that and add 1/2 scoop of vanilla cappuccino mix, 2 tspns sugar (brown sugar), and creamer.


let me tell you that is a caffeine overload right there. it's strong, heavy, hot and sweet!!!!!!!! that will keep you boasted all day long!!!!!!!


well anyway, i went the full 5 days, but after the headache went away i started having phantom coffee smells wake me up in the morning. i'd be sound asleep and the smell of coffee would come wafting across my face and just lift me up out of sleep like a dark angel grabbing me by the nostrils and tickling me awake! i snapped awake and tossed off the covers, kicking dogs off of me, march out to the kitchen only to find.....


an empty cold pot sitting there looking at me with 7am blinking on it's face.


i'm the only one in the house to drink coffee w/any regularity. my ex used to say that was my signature breath scent. he hated it, but my Joe always loved that i smelled like fresh brewed coffee. he said it was exotic and warm, like me. lol funny guy. anyway, there was never any coffee. but i waited it out. finally yesterday, that stopped happening, i thought i was passed it. i thought GREAT!!!! the addiction is over! i'm FREE, i'm FREE!


so NOT!


i got up this morning, made my tea. sipping it, reading the mornings news, laughing at the goofy stuff, looking at puppies, and an ad pops up for....yeah, you guessed it.....FOLGERS!


now, i don't even like Folgers. it's what i grew up drinking from grade school on cold Rochester mornings with my mother yanking my hair, and yelling at me to do one more thing before i escaped off to school for the day. it's a nasty, dry, stale, bitter coffee, that brings back nasty, dry, stale, bitter memories. i totally don't like it. but there i sat, watching the damn thing and watching the steam wiggle up from the cup and curl around that man's lips making love to his teeth and slipping over his tongue, a river of dark sweetness just flowing over and down his throat in one smooth sip. they had me. i was bought and sold.


i hate ads. JUST HATE THEM. i hate being an addict. but not that much. i got up, cracked open my wallet, all the moths flew out, and I puffed out all the dust, and grabbed a $10 bill, slipped on my shoes and marched out the door, across the highway, and into the Big Lots store. there on the shelf was sitting a one pound sack of Java Time, $5, one of my favorite brands of Jamaican coffee. they didn't have any espresso, but i didn't care, i was gonna have coffee, no matter how it was made. i practically raced back home, almost got hit coming across the highway because i forgot to look both ways. wouldn't that be a bitch, in such a hurry to have my fix that i got run down and killed on the way to have it! lmao


i get home, walk in the door and since i'd been gone all of ten minutes ALL of the dogs charge me at the door and i crash onto the floor immediately covered in dogs!!!!!! NOW i'm cussin'!!!!! these rat bastards just don't want me to have coffee! i'm kickin', i'm hollerin', i'm cussin', my coffee sack is all the way across the dining room, but they just go on lickin, and barkin, like it's some kind of lollipop party! finally i get my feet under me and lurch up and scream ENOUGH!!!!!!! Sylvio, my cockatoo, starts laughing hysterically from the livingroom, finding it all just the height of hilarity. while Quasimodo, the macaw spouts up with, "What up?" "What up Man?". the dogs scatter. finally, i can make it to the coffee pot after i pick up my bag. fortunately it didn't get busted and none of the dogs noticed it, an unusual moment of oblivion on their part.


i get the pot all set up, i open the bag after searching an endless length of time for the utility shears, and the smell of the coffee just about knocks me off my feet. it's like your first breath when you've been underwater too long. HEAVEN! three heaping scoop go into the basket, i snap it all together, press the ON button, push the pot back into it's little corner. then......i wait. and wait. and wait. and wait some more.


it takes 10 DAMN MINUTES for this pot to brew. UGH UGH UGH!!!!


it's the longest 10 minutes of my LIFE!!! it's like LABOR PAINS!!! it's like having your fingers shut in the care door in the half a moment before someone opens the door and fingers are free!!! it's like that moment when you get in the shower and the water is still too hot the second before it cools and touches your skin!!! OMG, IT'S NEVER GONNA END! but finally, the 10 minutes is over, and i pour the dark golden, amber liquid, steaming into my cup, add 2tspns of sugar, and creamer to it, no espresso, no cappuccino, just a regular coffee....






i hold it to my nose and take a deep, hot, damp, sweet, breath....





i hold my breath,




so sweet,




so good,


and i drink.


my addiction is fed.


i am home again .












dwke/82714

Tattoo

I searched for years for the right tattoo, until one day on the internet I found this old painting called Earth Dragon, and I chose the central theme of the painting for my tattoo. There are several connections I have to this particular piece of art, and all of them are very meaningful for me. Getting this done, finally, at the ripe old age of 44 years was the culmination of a lifelong search for my path. This two part piece has obvious representations in the pagan world, The Green Man-new life, growth, change; Earth Dragon - protection, life, courage, strength, guardian and guide; Earth - the All, life, rebirth, fragile beauty.

Having this work done is the symbol of my permanent commitment to my pagan faith in The All. There is always pain involved in getting a tattoo, and the 4.5 hours it took to get this done all in one sitting, from sketching to filling, was exquisitely so, and it's something I wouldn't have missed for anything. I look at the pain as symbolizing the pain that I had suffered in my life up to that point, before I had found my path. The pain of loss, fear, abuse, neglect, not belonging anywhere, of being lost in a world of strangers. There was intense, extreme pain when the artist did the tail of the dragon, there is a small bundle of nerves just under there, and it had me in moaning tears. That was the greatest pain of my life, the loss of my son... but the moment the tattoo was finished began the healing, the finding of the path, the finding of MY path to The All, and there hasn't been a single moment that I've regretted since then.

The tat also represents other, much more mundane things in my life. The Green Man also represents my husband Joe, who literally saved my very life from self-medicating depression with drugs and alcohol when we first met, he loved me and brought great good change to my life. The earth represents my children, and my life. The dragon is myself, I live to serve and to protect; to bring life, to save life; to love, and to teach love. This tattoo means a great many very important things to me. It was supposed to. I think if you're going to change something given us in it's purity, that it should mean a great deal. That's why it took so long to find it.  That’s why it was so painful to receive it.

This Rainy Night

As storm clouds gather
cooling winds grow
gently bringing the evening sprinkle
of greening summer's rains
I carry my weary bared feet
over shattered shells
and dirty sand calling the crew to cover

Sitting in my crippled wooden chair
I kick over my worn soft sandals
slowly roll the ragged straps over dirty feet
Walking on asphalt needs more
than tired bones and calloused heels
I call to me the loyal Lord Hugo
my stormy evening walking partner,
always at my side.

Together we pass through
the safety of an oak door
into the darkness of night, rain and wind
to, maybe, find the breath of
One we've both grown to miss
Maybe, his face will shine out
from behind the clouds
upon the gleaming disc of Luna
On in the momentary fiery flash
of a lightening burst across the darkening sky.

Lord Hugo's platter-like paws
splash small waves across my sandals
as we tread through tall grass
cross the rain-silvery rails
make way through crunching gravel
wade through flooding streets
stop to look up at street lights,
colored stars on black lines dancing on the wind
so festive and out of season.

Such a warm night, such a cold rain
yet, no tender voice upon the whipping wind
no soft whisper floating on the chilled rain
no warm touch afloat the drifting leaves
not a single glimmer the shadowed moon
nor a single lingering fiery flash burning across the night.

Ah, but it's so good to walk,
to walk, in the wind, in the rain,
passing lonely strangers on teh street
they cannot see with lowered heads
see where raindrops end their cold dropping
and teardrops begin their burning falling
Lord Hugo must the lead me on now
I no longer can find my way
The rain, yes it's so, clouds my sight,
This rainy night. 

dragonwyke    8/30/2013

Angel Brought the Greenman

'Lena came for a visit day before yesterday and was here all day long.  She was a bratty joy, as usual.  Kept busy and smiling, full of hugs and laughter, conversation and giggles, questions and kisses.  I don't think I'd spent a happier day in months upon months.  Around 230 in the afternoon she came to me all cranky, carrying her blankie, clinging to my skirts,

"Gwamma, I weally need a gwammanap!  Can you gimme one? ... pweeze!"

So I gave her my hand and she gently put her tiny fingers inside mine and we trailed off to my room.  We put in a movie that we missed entirely, can't even remember what it was, and snuggled up under the covers.  She curled up right next to me under my arm, sucking her thumb and fell right  to sleep mumbling,

"I love you so much Gwamma!  I weally miss Gwampa tho, I wish he sweeped wif us 'sted 'o the moon."

And then she was sleeping.  Not moments later, so was I.  Then in my sleep the GreenMan came, bringing with him joy and tears and sorrow. 

We were all, Joe, and I and all the girls and their boyfriends and the kids were sitting at the table sharing dinner.  His favorite, pasta with all the fixin's, meatballs, sausage, thick red sauce, garlic toast, olive oil for dipping, there was chianti in glasses.  I was a fine Italian feast just the way he loved it.  Everyone was talking and laughing and lightly arguing, as our family is wont to do.  He was smiling and so happy, standing and refilling glasses, passing dishes.  I can't remember the last time I'd seen him so happy  He even had his front teeth back that got knocked out at work when a 250lb box slipped off the steel when he was putting up stock one day and it fell onto his face. 

I was watching him and thinking how really strong and beautiful he is.  How thick and shining his hair and beard were, how beautiful, just beautiful his hands were.  Just like my Grandfather's hands were so many years ago.  He sat down to his plate and I caught his hand.  I swear, it was warm and living in mine.  I rubbed the skin with my thumb feeling the thickness again, not the boniness of ill health.  He was a living man again, in my hands.  I could feel myself begin to breathe again, like a glass breaking and icy water spilling out onto the floor, free and rushing out all at once.  He's here, again!

"O, I miss you!  I miss you so much!  Where have you been?"

"I miss you too honey!  Don't worry, I'm okay"  he smiled at me with those beautiful hazel blue eyes twinkling at me.

Then he lifted my hand and kissed my knuckles with a whisper soft kiss.  He turned over my hand, spread open my palm and lay his whiskered cheek in my hand slowly turning his face till his lips touched my palm, tenderly placed a kiss there too.  This is how he always kissed me, all our life together.  So soft, so tender, so romantically sweet. 

Then after a time we had an after dinner smoke outside in the dooryard.  We stood in the cool air.  Looking at the dark sky, the beautiful shining stars, the big beautiful nearly full moon, breathing in the scent of blooming jasmine, gardenia, and honeysuckle.  We held hands and stood together, leaning our shoulders together.  Enough time must've passed, though forever is too short a time for me, because he turned to me and pulled me close hugging me hard.  He pushed my hair back from my face, kissed my forehead, my eyes, my cheeks and finally my lips.  Such a loving, sweet, lover's kiss we might've shared 27yrs ago.  I began to cry, because I knew.  I asked him,

"Please, stay.  Can't you stay?  I need you so.  I love you!"

He said,

"I love you.  I'll see you 'round, don't you worry.  You'll be fine."

Then he turned, trailing my hand, and disappeared in the scent of blooming jasmine, gardenia and honeysuckle. 

I woke to 'Lena wiping my tears telling me,

"It's okay Gwamma, we will see Gwampa agin.  He visits me awda time!  You don't hafta cwy."

So, my little Angel brings my GreenMan to visit.

I Made It After All

i happened to be out w/my daughter Zee today looking for a decent pair of sneakers that wouldn't fall apart on me. found a pair of sketchers (love 'em) at Ross for $25 (great deal). i happened to catch a glimpse of myself in a full length mirror as i walked past (i'm not used to looking in mirrors, i hate them) and had to walk back to it for a second look.

i look funny in my clothes now. i usually dress sort of frumpy anyway, that's just the way i dress, so it wasn't that. i'm only 5' tall and i haven't grown since i was 12yrs old so it wasn't that. i haven't colored my hair in over 5mos and i knew it was graying pretty good, so it wasn't that. i knew i'd lost about 20lbs over the last 6mos, so no it wasn't that either. i stood there looking and wondering what was wrong, why i looked so odd. sort of worn, tired, older, smaller....what...oh...that's it.... like my mother.

i look like my mother. after all these years, after all the work, the kids, the moving, the jobs, the disability, the divorce, the 2 marriages, and now finally, finally the worst loss of all, losing my husband to death, i am my mother. how funny, how strange, how ironic, how sad, and, really, how wonderful that i made it after all. i really am just that strong after all.