All right, the day isn’t over by a long shot, but I took some time off to roast a batch of Mexican Coatepec, and took it just into second crack, so it should turn out to be just shy of “full city roast.”
Picture of the vacuum cleaner looking item on my counter top is my “baby” drum coffee roaster (check out my reflection in the chrome). She can handle half a pound at a time, thereby making her a toy to folks who roast for a living, but the cup profile rivals that of a $12,000 Probat or Diedrich shop model.
The Coatepec has been a versatile bean in our house. It is a switch from the Kenya AA and Sumatra Mandheling I usually enjoy for their individual characteristics. The Kenyan is bright and sassy, a swift ass-kick to get the morning rolling, and the Sumatra is good for mid-day lag while brooding over the morning’s paragraphs.
Coatepec is good all day long, like a well-crafted story that sticks you right into the action so that you forget you’re reading.
Now that the house is filled with the burnt toast aroma of roasted coffee, its time to get back to work. I finished a poem this morning for a contest submission, and the task for this afternoon is children’s fantasy. Don’t ask, and I won’t tell you. A couple of snippets for Boys Life magazine after dinner, and I can curl up again with a Jack Lewis’ biography.
A man could have a worse day than this.
The books to the right are a conglom of my current obsessions, researches and constant companions.