An Eighth Shot of Espresso: Coffee and Creativity on Mum's Third Shift

The greatest lie the weakest promise is not made lightly. At the altar on the deathbed some words are just empty. Turning over a new leaf when the clock ticks over to midnight A resolution never changes the base character. I'll lose weight be more open do kind acts take charge of my life stop drinking I promise, I'll change.

Don't get me things just give me time. Years, months days, hours, minutes to spend with the ones who really matter. Don't get me riches give me love respect, humor sweet memories to cherish and remember for the rest of my life. Don't lecture me give me encouragement kind words, hard truths to motivate me to do better and be the best I can be. Don't repeat the past give me the present to rebuild, restart make a firm foundation to take into the futur e.

The sky is grey and the heavens open up and starts to weep and weep and weep for days on end after the holiday thrill is fading, fading at least for another year. A switch in the sky has been suddenly flipped the sun's brilliance muted behind the clouds and a colorless chill arrives for a little while at least until the thermometer decides to sort itself out as to which season it truly is and not according to the calendar. When will the warmth and the birdsong return?

Cookies, candy, cake popcorn, marshmallows gingerbread and fruit Toys and games pillows and blankets fluffy robes and slippers shoes and sweaters candles and ornaments gift cards and music Post Christmas the hype has died down for another year some feel disappointed others breathe a sigh of relief The lights are still up the mistletoe hangs limp from the ceiling. It's that nebulous time between the old year and the new one. The long night is past and now we march towards the dawn of spring light. But still a time of quiet uncertainty.

No matter where we roam when the Christmas decorations are put away again and the presents are all unwrapped The food all savored the hymns are all sung the church bells all rung the small talk all spoken. Family obligations all done for the year There is something to be said for the sight of your own driveway and your own place even as the rain falls and the sky is grey overhead: For so ever it be humble there's no place like home.

Too much to do too little time loads of laundry clean out the van wrap gifts last minute shopping hotel arrangements Always the one traveling year after year No one returns the favor too far too busy too much of a hassle we can do it so they don't have to. Grin and bear it only to be ignored at family outings my kids too disruptive because they are different but she wants to see her cousins so we do it anyway. I need a vacation from my 'vacation' preferably someplace warm and tropical without dealing with family who really don't give a damn.

The ice is thawing where does this unexpected warmth come from? Years of the winter of chilly detente four hundred miles away. Last year the holidays all strained smiles and polite words, the brittle gestures of pained goodwill. And suddenly calls asking for clothing sizes for the children. And looking forward to the one visit per year. Not unpleasant but completely out of the blue. I suppose Christmas miracles do happen from time to time.

The longest night of the year Shadows fall quickly The temperature is enough to make the dead shiver. Icy winds blow from the north and the stars are far away Their light do not pierce the clouds. It feels ominous tonight as if the world is holding its breath only to see it puff in smoke in the chilly sky. Christmas lights shine from the windows candle flames flicker in time with the beating of the season's heart. Huddle around for warmth for the dark is everywhere at its peak but take heart for the light will rise again.

Emotional vampires watching people go through what you went through and experience all the rage the triumph the frustration Laugh when they laugh cry when they cry Vibrate with the desire to tell them what happens in the the next scene with the next mechanic and you have to refrain from spilling the beans and betraying the details before it is time to see it happen for them.

Another trip around the sun I don't have time to get philosophical when real life goes on. Kids have a half day of school Christmas in a week presents to wrap last minute gifts to get family trip to plan And yet a year older but not necessarily a year wiser the twenty-first anniversary of my twenty-ninth birthday but I hardly feel it There are places to go things to do people to meet stories to write and life to live.

Staying serene in a chaotic season is always a challenge. Always remember where you are at this place in this moment. Focus on what must be done at the present Don't fret about the past or obsess about the future. There are still the same number of hours in the day. House to be cleaned plates in the sink presents to be wrapped. But also meals to be eaten songs to be sung breaths to be breathed bliss to be shared. Always remember what life really means it has to be lived not just spent on the practical things that do not satisfy the soul.

Gingerbread smell wafts through the house the oven is like a furnace pans of cookies come out little men decorated with colored frosting and googly eyes so Grandma can stare in horror and shout "they're looking at me!" Fudge with espresso powder and one batch with marshmallows several tries result in burnt black bottoms in the saucepans but the end result is worth it when it turns out just perfectly. Christmas carols from the TV defrosting Mariah Carey to the jazzy tunes and operatic orchestras as the coffee machine is kept forever warm hot water for cocoa and coffee as we wrap up cookie boxes for gifts. A tradition stretching back almost three decades some years just the basics: gingerbread, sugar, chocolate chip other years with cheese sticks, seafoam, crisp and chewy cookies always a hit with the families almost expected year after year but the kitchen is always warm with freshly baked goods.

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 I miss the clacking of typewriters Keyboarding 101 typing asdfjkl; fingers in home position Walking in the rain long summer days floating on inner tubes down the lazy river. The smell of gingerbread the laughter of children drive in theaters video game arcades. Sunday brunch reading at the library Easter Egg hunts pictures with Santa Nostalgia for long ago days a childhood left behind when life was day by day and the future was a dim prospect.

 I long for gatherings round the fire the laughter of children the merriment of grown ups. Updates on the year what shenanigans have you been doing from January to November. Food on the table perhaps not the most expensive meat or the choicest bottles of wine. Carols sung by the piano as the light sparkles on the ornaments adorned on the tree. Good cheer and whatever grievances stoked during the year are set aside for this one time. Did that really exist? A time of peace and goodwill between us? Or did it only exist in my mind?

The struggle between good and evil. The villain stands and does their required monologue. The antagonist reveals their bitter, tragic backstory while the heroine pines for the hero every night and lives in the fancy castle. The sidekick cracks jokes and gives sound advice. The malevolent wizard twirls his mustache and hatches his plots. The writer learns the rules studies the great authors diagrams the overarching plots then learns to break them and invent them anew.

 "I need this done yesterday I need this appointment made I need I need I need..." It's always what needs to be done and in true passive voice you're not the one to do it. It's me. I'm forward facing I deal with people set up meetings I'm the mover and shaker But in the end I'm the invisible shadow who pulls the strings and get no credit.

There is comfort in routine. To know what will come before, during, after. No stress in planning everything happens in the same time, place and manner. If life always went that way it would be easy to become complacent. But life never runs quite so smoothly. Emergencies happen the unexpected too. How do you react? Paralyzed with indecision? Face the challenge head on? Your routine is broken.

I watch her on stage in the company of fellow musicians as they tune their instruments and prepare to serenade the audience with lovely music. That could have been me forty or so years ago if I'd had the courage to tell my mother what I wanted to do and how I longed to do it. She was too tired the crowds too exhausting the sacrifices too great Unfulfilled dreams with her own violin she didn't want to open that book. Other priorities school was more important Get straight A's, help the family do what I want you to do then think about what you want to do you with your life. Forty years later my own daughter proudly plays because she loves it and she wants to and I smile and be happy for her and not just for me.

Yellow light from the windows is quite deceptive giving the illusion of warmth. Outside the trees sway and the bushes bend under the weight of a winter wind. Leaves swirl in circles chasing each other in endless torment whipped up in a frenzy some manage to break away to tumble into the street and scattered by passing cars. It is ice, not snow not a spellbound wonderland the gray sheen of treachery clings to every surface glittering like jeweled mirrors foretelling disaster. Brown grass crunch underfoot dirt frozen solid, a dark crust harder than the stalest loaf of bread. Suspended in time the ants sleep within and dream of a long awaited spring.

It's freezing today my body is like an old car that needs an eternity to warm up constantly backspacing fingers mistyping letters mistakes forever I wish I can rest but there's too much to do today. Appointments to keep deadlines to meet people to see meetings to go to I can see the wind stirring the bushes outside my window and the thought of going past the walls of my house fills me with dread. I need a mechanic to fix this rust bucket of a corpse that I animate.

Seventeen days two weeks, three days a fortnight plus three it's quite a while. A lot can happen in this span of time life can change before you know it. A blink of an eye to a human a stretch of eternity to a fruit fly. To take up a habit or to give one up takes a lot of courage and a bit of patience. Seventeen days of pen to paper or fingers to keyboard consistency is the key.

Too much too little too loud too demure too shabby too perfect too tiny too tall. no redeeming features no outstanding qualities no soft curves no defined lines no bright colors no variation in hue no heart or soul no sense of restraint. If everyone can't agree on what is 'acceptable' then why bother following an arbitrary set of rules? Everyone's a critic with their own opinion that certainly isn't a fact.

 The wind blows over the carpet of leaves spinning lazily about dancing between the trees as their bare branches sway too and fro greeting the gales of winter. The world sleeps under a blanket of gray the frosty morning light touches all with chill even as all are drowsy deep underground or burrowed beneath heavy blankets. The Gods watch as the predator swims through the the drifts of white searching for a hapless straggler to fill its belly for the short time of its perilous existence. The time ticks way too slowly for the ones who cling to the hope of spring and too quickly for the ones who enjoy the warmth of home at the fire's hearth.

 I wish I can tell you just how much effort it takes me just to go through the day. How many cups of coffee or sugary tea I need to function with a somewhat clear mind. The many times I need to get up and walk around exercise stiff joints only to sit in front of a screen again. The fake smiles and reassurances so that your world remains smooth and unbothered.