Tag Archives: #mondaycoffeeblog

Monday Coffee

…or should I say tea? After all, we are meeting at tea time and the weather demands something a bit more comforting than coffee. Join me on the yellow sofa and let’s catch up. Continue reading

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Monday Midnight Tea

Hello and welcome to Wildmoor Heath. We have to be quiet so as not to upset the locals. Their bushy tails and gleaming eyes are barely visible in the surrounding darkness, but we know that they are out there, somewhere.
Do be careful as you enter the den. The children made it today and spent quite a few hours finding the branches and twigs to create the little  hideout. In case you’re wondering what it looked like during the day, below is a picture of the finished product. 

Right! Now that you’re settled on the purple blanket, I’ll make some tea from the flasks we’ve carried up here with us. One lump of sugar or two? Sorry, no milk tonight – too much weight!

After we’ve had our tea and a packet of crisps (kindly packed by my youngest Sprog), let’s go for a walk in the rest of the forest and see what we can find. 

Earlier this evening, we spotted fireflies on the heath; a most spectacularly sight as I’ve never seen one before. The moment was spoilt as Henry decided to eat each one as it lit up! Needless to say we had to move along swiftly to avoid exterminating the few fireflies left. 
If you’re up for a little adventure, we could take the path leading through the red barked conifers. It’s so silent there, you can hear your heartbeat and flutter of your eye lashes. Further on, the stench of swampy water is a clear warning to watch your step in the darkness. If you miss the signs, Henry will remind you as he loves to take a dip in the stinkiest bog and shake himself close to you. So beware.

Once we’ve had our walk and return to the den, we can use our torchlight to make shadow puppets and animals until it’s time for bed. Fierce competition will arise between those that can create the perfect kangaroo and bear. Whomever wins getting bragging rights and the first share of the slab of chocolate. 

You look as though you’ve nearly finished your tea. I’ll pack up the rest of the things and we can start the evening’s adventures. 

I’m so glad you’re here to experience it with me. The kids loved it as the first activity for their summer holidays. I hope you do too! 

Monday Tea…no, Coffee!

Come outside with me. The view out here, as described by my new neighbour, looks like an African sunset. Orange hues blended with saffron and hints of turmeric dust the trees on the hilltop in the distance, capturing the last light of the day in spectacular splendour. 

I suggested tea today because we always seem to drink coffee. It has been a while since I’ve had my Darjeeling tea and I do miss it. What about you – any favourite beverages that you’ve missed?

Today has been my first day getting back to my book and I feel a bit overwhelmed. Not much has moved in the story and, the more I write, the more I realise that this tapestry of suspense is going to require my full attention. Writing the first book laid the foundations for the characters. This book requires more and to give it that extra pull, I need to monitor the characters closely. I don’t know about yours but mine tend to go off the beaten track if not watched carefully.  Sometimes, a new storyline appears because of their actions and I have to reprimand them or lose the plot!

Enough about the book. Let’s sit and enjoy our tea, the view and the wonderful company. Are you coming to the Bloggers’ Bash next month? If you hear a weird squeal, that’s just me trying to contain my excitement! There are so many people to meet and as much as I look forward to the meet and greet, I’m incredibly nervous too! So if you see me holding up the shadows in the corner, do come and hold my hand or bring me some Dutch courage to get me through it all! 

Have a great week! 

Monday Coffee

I’m searching everywhere for a free seat, but I dare not try to take the sofa in the corner in case the owner decides to flex his bouncer’s muscles on me. Yup, seating is tight in every quarter and they have already flagged that sofa for employees.

I can see some customers taking a firm stance against bullying and they are rallying up, ready to take on the other coffee lovers stating that plain old straight coffee should be served without fuss or colour to the masses. Of course, being a coffee house, it’s a bit hard to please everyone and the establishment is arguing back that variety is the spice of life: try the new non-fruity frappuccino for instance, for those who feel it unnecessary to segregate fruit.

The barista has no words.

Luckily, we are not fussy customers and with little to no interaction with the sparring quarters, we order our herbal teas and sit outside where we can watch the altercations happen within. Always nice to watch the action without getting involved. Pity about the smell out here though. With the heat wave over the past weekend, we find our olfactory senses bombarded by the stench of dead fish. Too polite to complain to the manager (and fearing his bouncer) we continue to sip our herbals and stare pointlessly at the decomposing bodies of fish floating in the nearby river. Damnably inconvenient really; it spoils the lovely ambience of the dying sun warming our backs whilst we reminisce about better days.

Thankfully, the fighting inside seems to have quietened down and a peaceful serenity washes over the coffee house and surrounding establishments. We watch the painstaking efforts of management to please all whilst making sure they collect enough remuneration to warrant the hassle.

I shrug my shoulders when they glance our way, hoping we might want to weigh in on the negotiations. Why should we risk getting involved. I mean, after all, how does it affect us if they decide to stop segregating fruit or not; serve only one type of coffee and ban all others; or if they leave the fish to die in the heat? We will just move on to another coffee house with better service and less opinionated customers. Isn’t that the thing to do?

 

Monday Coffee

The soft sultry voice of Kat Edmonson croons over the loudspeaker as we sit on the veranda of our favourite coffee house. Children scream past with mothers looking less than relaxed as the holidays kick in, promising long days and short nights spent cramming in ways to entertain sprogs. 

I turn my attention back to you, fiddling with your coffee mug with a smiley emoji on its side. How are you, I wonder? After many weeks of fobbing off proper libations with you, I haven’t had a chance to find out. 

So many writing friends have been laboriously working towards the end of their novels, stress and stars swimming past their eyes intermittently, whilst I have slowed to a stop yet again. Yes, I’ll admit it only you and our coffee mugs – I’ve lost my mojo again. 

It’s not so much the loss of vision, more the lack of motivation. Lazy would be the perfect description for it! Don’t worry. I promise I will finish the book/s in the near future. They’re too close to the end to leave them now. Those lovely detectives of mine will be square dancing down the kindle pages, solving dastardly crimes soon enough!

Do you ever contemplate dropping everything and following your dreams? What would your biggest dream be? Mine? Well, that’s a hard one because I love my job and writing equally. Both are important so leaving one for the other would be like cheating on the love of my life with my muse. Tough one. 

As the sun drops behind the trees and the lazy buzz of insects descend towards fresh prey sitting with exposed arms thinking summer’s here, I watch you swirl the cold coffee dregs and dread the thought crossing your mind: it’s time to go. 

With one warm hug and a promise to meet again next week, we part ways along the riverside, following our separate paths home. I wish you a wonderful week and imagine you saying the same to me. Until we meet again. 

Monday Coffee and a story

Welcome back to Monday Coffee.  Take a seat and pour yourself a glass of something while I line up the story for tonight.

Our main course tonight is a simple dish of glad-I’m-better served with a side of sickness left over from the weekend. After spending most of it in bed with a horrible cold, I am happy to announce that my voice is back, albeit a little huskier than usual, and I can now walk without tipping over like a drunk! My wine of choice is a rather old medley with warm undertones and a rich flavour of butterscotch. I don’t know if you’ve tried it before – it’s called Cavornia Cough Medicine. Have a swig. It goes well with the coughed up lung.

Now that the main course has been digested and all germs are out of the way, let’s get to the sweet part of our meal: the story.  Today’s little tasty treat is based on my favourite – death. I favour it because it’s a constant. You can be more sure about death than love, politics or taxes. And it never lets you down when it says it’s coming to get you. So, with the mood set and taste buds tantalised, I present…

 “I will be with you forever.” 

The biggest lie. The lie that constantly sent me over the edge whenever I heard it.  There he lay, weak and expiring, his watery gaze upsetting. Where once lay a virile Adonis slaying my fears and chasing rainbows with voracity, a fragile fallen warrior smiled in his place; the toothless grin repeating words that aggravated me the most: “I will be with you forever.”

“You lied, you fool. I’m going to be all alone. You will die and I will be left here without you. Why Auri? Why?”

His laboured breath slowed, the steady rhythm broken by an intermittent rasp. My heart skipped.  A release of adrenaline shot through my muscles, making me leap from my comfortable armchair facing his bed to a sentinel position next to his frail form. Dry mouthed and shaking, I reached forward to touch his cold hand and checked his pulse.

“Auri?” I whispered. 

Only his raspy breath answered. 

“Auri?” My voice trembled.

A slow smile spread across his thin lips. “I’m still here my love. I’ll never leave you.”

The clocked ticked away the seconds it took for me to grit my teeth and contain my anger. This man, this incorrigible giant had filled my world with his presence for over fifty years. Our family had only consisted of the two of us, children being out of the question. But we were enough. 

With the world as our playground we had travelled and drunk in the beauty and wonder around us, never stopping long enough to miss the people we met along the way. Too engrossed in ourselves, was the common accusation thrown over our lifestyle, but we didn’t care. Ours was a life of greater depth and purpose, allowing ourselves to stay almost innocent in our love for those around us. After all, it’s hard to disappoint someone if you’re never there!

The ticking seemed to slow, mimicking the sickening rasp of his hollow breath. Trickles of smoke slipped under the door, dancing between the relics that showcased our life, our love. Shadowed plumes puffed clouds of grey across pictures of Auri and me climbing mountains, dancing on sunset beaches and carrying a myriad of exotic animals.

My eyes filled as Auri’s limp hand slipped out of mine. His stillness left the room empty and I could feel the agony of being alone creep stealthily towards me. Anguish engulfed my heart, wracking heaving gasps as I refused to replenish my spent breath. I choked on my tears, feeling the burn of the thinning air. 

You see, the sickness caught us by surprise. We had no time to think of cures or plans for the future. We never did anyway. Our lives were lived for today. And so, when his diagnosis pin-pointed only a few weeks to live, I had to come up with a plan of my own, something to stave off the darkness. It was working.

Fingers wrapped around us, covering us in a shroud so beautiful and mystical. It’s deadly beauty hid the loneliness that would have awaited me once they found Auri’s body. Slowly, I climbed into bed next to him, holding  him as I had done for so many of our years together. I could feel his cooling body yield to mine and we lay in silence. Even the clock dared not disturb our peaceful slumber. 

As the room grew warmer, I smiled and kissed him for the last time. Flames licked at the walls and made the paint squeal. All the memories we shared were going with us in my specially planned funeral pyre. The house was ours to burn and with no dependants to fight over the ashes, we would exit this world as we had entered it, rich in love not money. 

My eyes felt heavy and as they drifted closed, I swear Auri was there, dancing among the flames, beckoning to me. 

He didn’t lie after all – he was waiting for me in forever.

Thank you for joining me for Monday Coffee with a story. Join me tomorrow for Book Tuesday where I will be showcasing one of my children’s books and a book review of a crime romance.

Have a great evening.