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

Grass is greener on the other side when you compare things across the fence. Envy begets bitterness but it can spur innovation "Just why is it better and how can we achieve it?" "Can we reach this point can we make it better? What do we need to do and what do we need to change?" Seize the opportunity to improve your understanding to make your world a better, brighter place.

Twice a week now there is blessed quiet in the house. Kids are at school Hubby in the office I can concentrate on writing. Sometimes karma decides otherwise and I just roll my eyes. You know the saying "Don't say it aloud or you'll jinx it?" Maybe today it will be different and it will be uneventful. No sudden phone calls no last minute e mails no one suddenly sick. It would be nice to finish a thought all the way to the end.

It's rather odd... My ancestors have come and gone generations separate us and yet... I still feel them every time I take up my brush and trace every character stroke. And every time I put my hands around a bowl of steaming egg drop soup. When I go through language lessons wrapping my head around measure words and many dialects. I try to pick up noodles with the plain wooden chopsticks with very little grace. Today starts a new year The Year of the Wood Snake "Gõngxĩ făcái. Happy New Year."

 Sick to my stomach today feeling not that great one of those days I want to hibernate. Body can't make up its mind whether to be asleep or awake Stomach can't keep anything down even aspirin I take. Days like this sure aren't fun I know they come at times My head so fuzzy and so blech It's a miracle I can rhyme.

Reduce it all to its basic components how it all fits together. How efficient it works what kind of response would it bring as a whole? How much is it worth? Can it be replicated? Duplicated? How fast is the turn around time? Can we devote resources to make this even work? Consumers use critics analyze stockholders earn When everything can be traded and all assigned a certain price art and life are cheap.

My art studio doubles as the dining room table. Paints stacked in the corner of the closet. Poems written in the wee hours of the night when everyone is asleep. Sketches hastily drawn between doctor's appointments and daughter's music lessons. The piano book still on chapter two the guitar out of tune the strings gathering dust. It feels like splitting time between demanding lovers running from one room to the next and not devoting enough minutes for a proper relationship. But it is worth the hassle for a moment of peace and thinking all is right with the world.

 "What do you have to live for?" The mocking voice asked. "Everything." I whispered. "The feeling of wind in my hair sun in my face watching the raindrops slide down the window pane. "The laughter of children the satisfaction of a job well done. The sense of a banding together for a common cause. "The work left undone the songs that are unsung the voices of the ones who cannot or will not be heard. "The whispers of my forefathers the footsteps of the generations that have not yet seen daylight. The cries of the ghosts of our present. "The justice still not given the guidance that the lost needs the empathy that the world lacks and the love that must always bloom. "But most of all I really need to live for me."

For one so bold there are times when I hold back for fear of being laughed at or embarrassing myself. For one so confident there are times I feel unsure of every step I make or what direction I take. For one so artistic there are times when the muse doesn't speak and I grasp at silence wanting to hear her voice. For one so tired there are times when I dig deep inside and find the strength to carry on.

Thirty years old I picked up a pencil only spare doodles as the baby slept. I picked up a paintbrush mixed paints Those early canvases were hardly masterpieces done between play dates and kindergarten antics. Now fifty one pencils at the ready drawing characters while the kids are at school. Paintbrushes worn hues dried on the palette The recent canvases still reflect my mind done between crises and midlife musings.

Designing rooms: I'll put the living room right here I will have a fence the white picket kind and a wraparound porch with a swing for those lazy summer days And flowers in the front rose bushes and daisies There will be a creek in the backyard for swimming and fishing I will paint the walls frame the windows to let in the sunlight and bright curtains. Enough room for the family and friends who want to visit. A spacious kitchen for cooking and entertaining and a dining room for holiday dinners. And I'll fill my house with warm cheer and laughter make it an oasis from the harsh world outside.

 What is warmth? A number on the thermometer The sun-kissed touch of summer The smile of an innocent child The glow of a campfire surrounded by blinking fireflies pushing back the gloom. Candlelight in the dark burning in eternity calling the lost back home. Burdens finally lifted and one can finally breathe fresh clean air. Pristine sand on the beach the cry of seagulls overhead smell of tropical drinks A pet sleeping on your chest curled up under the blankets knowing that they are safe at last.

A sword of Fate befitting a ruler but what if the choice is rather blunted? The shadow that lies behind the throne A whim from a capricious God's hand? A dark cloud hangs over the castle a rolling storm threatens to break overhead. Look past the pomp and circumstance The royal robes and holy scepter The king is no fool but the jester's jokes are deadly.

I. Rose without a thorn Beauty without any teeth Ripe for the picking It cannot defend itself its petals torn and scattered. II. The desert flower defended by sharp sharp spines only the bravest would dare reach into the maw to claim this prized succulent. III. A sweet smelling blossom glows in the moonlight beauty is ethereal tea from its roots is divine sends you to heaven smiling.

A slow realization that stretches across years Innocent eyes watch every move unsullied ears hear every word Sleight of hand attracts their attention distracts their minds dulls their reflexes The world reduced to simple amusements shallow and not very interesting. The untrained mind can be controlled the inexperienced heart can be influenced to believe light is bad and dark is good and there is nothing in between.

My mind cannot let go of what went before turning every stone looking from every angle worrying it like a dog gnawing on a bone. What should I have said? What should I have done? Could it have ended differently? How will things change? What will happen now? Pore through every detail talk about it at every turn until the sympathetic smiles become strained their amusement becomes fake. I know I should stop let bygones be bygones fade into the past but I see it everywhere I turn the lost chances mock me. One day my thoughts latch onto some other subject where I cannot stop thinking and obsessing again the roller coaster starts once more.

In the depths of a tea cup the tea leaves sink down in different kinds of patterns random it seems or is it? Turn over five cards pictures in a puzzle try to make sense of it put it in context. Oracle bones from long ago cracks from the fire of fiery earth read in the moment mirroring the grooves in the turtle's shell or the runes carved in a magical formula for protection. Apply the known to the unknown to soothe a troubled mind.

The quiet ones hold the most secrets they speak them to the wind to the soil let the earth hear with every grain that slips through their fingers. Tell your story to the clouds and let their tears fall in cold droplets upon the seeds that lie buried, asleep until the bloody flowers erupt in the springtime. The stars witness every triumph and atrocity as they crawl in slow motion an eternity in a second a lifetime in a blink but they say nothing mute and not revealing the ending to the tale although they know.

A beautiful sight a row of colorful spines all facing you. A world by itself running your fingers along the line of thoughts condensed into parcels of knowledge. What secrets would they impart? What worlds would they unlock with every soft whisper of thin page? How will you know if you do not delve into this perfect line unless it is meant to just gather dust.

Sand slips through the hourglass clouds disappear the brook babbles secrets only time can understand. Snow lies heavily on the mountain the seas roil with thunder the Fates hold their collective breath and see what happens. Fire claims more and more chaotic wind scatter all in their wake every step leaves a footprint every pleas goes unheard. Sun and moon discuss what is necessary for the balance if the light is the darkness should it tilt the other way? The smell of incense and spring used to clear the holy spaces but the clamor of false teachings delay, distract, demean. Short term sights, long term blind No worries about tomorrow Let the bygones be bygones and the chickens come to roost.

A third of an inch not all that much but they have never seen snow before We tend to dismiss such little amounts of precipitation not enough to bother us. But they pile out and sift it in their hands get enough to throw it among loud laughter. It's enough to make you pause and remember the memory of a first sight of snow and how magical a moment it is. So I watch out of my office window and smile at their happiness the children have this forever to cherish in their hearts.

Worlds drift in the depths of a chaotic cup of coffee Somehow given life through the magic of a keyboard It bursts onto the page erupts into notes with unstoppable force. It cannot be contained as it swells with a voice needing to be heard. What kind of sorrow wrapped in beats of joy will reveal itself this time? The only way to find out is to let the voices speak from the depths within.

The inspiration for this tanka set is a blueskyrelay prompt on Bluesky. "Root" I. The root of all happiness It comes from within for if you are not happy then no one else can follow they can all see your light. II. The courage it takes to forge your own unique path you must be so strong even if others can't see and try not to understand. III. It can be lonely you realize who does care no matter how hard the road can be or how dark the skies above can become. IV. At the end you ask whether it was all worth it only you can know if being true to yourself is worth the light and shadow .

Already preparing for the year of the Wood Snake the Dragon will go back to slumber until it is called again. Snake is cool and cautious a detached observer analytical not swayed by fancy words or pretty baubles. But they are sensitive intelligent keen of delving into the mysteries of life artistic, creative. Be wary of the Snake but do not be afraid. Respect their space admire their patience they will be your friend.

Hopes dashed for a snow day today the skies are still grey the ground soaking wet but the temperatures are too warm for snow A disappointment to extend the winter break just a day or two. The kids sigh and roll their eyes the parents breathe a sigh of relief though the weatherman warns that the thermometer will dip tomorrow.

It's been nineteen years Since your smile graced the world. Every day I watch you give me that same smile your eyes light up with the innocence of life. And I want to protect you from it's hardships and cruelty. I worry about your future but I take every day one step at a time You're here for a purpose even if you are blissfully unaware of whatever it is. You curl up with your new pillow and plushies and hum your favorite tunes and all is right with the world.

Tastes familiar and yet new broken down in so many ways recombined into a flavor to please the tongue. Melodies old as time reworked into a new tapestry harmonies never before heard the ears ring with joy. Visions arranged in pieces then made whole again Blazing colors toned down Shadows made stronger by years. Velvet clings to every curve silk hangs in billowy waves Run your fingertips on ragged edges Stitches make them smooth. Notes of orange and lemon or of red rose and bergamot Fresh mountain air and sea salt Evokes memories from the smell. So many avenues of life every day, every hour the brain dulls itself for sanity but only if we can experience it all!

That feeling when some sense of normalcy returns to your life. Back to the schedule and to the grind. Play time is over and it's time to get back to business. But what if you sense that it won't be quite the same 'normal'. Like a stretched-out garment that doesn't quite fit anymore. It looks the same but it doesn't feel the same. Irrevocable no one can return back to the past that time is gone the clock ticks on on its ever march towards the future. But the longing is still there.

A year of hope of uncertainty of fear. Things will change days will go by faster than we expect or that we want. Children grow couples find new paths people just being people It can be frightening but remember where you are where you have been where you are going what you have accomplished what you have planned take it one step at a time one breath one heartbeat the present is now the past was then the clock ticked past midnight it's time to act accordingly.