Coffee Spills

What I hear and see and think about at the coffee shops I patronize.
Brisk. Fresh. Well-balanced. Occasional nutty and bittersweet overtones.
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Sunday, June 14, 2009

I have no life anymore, she said

Her mother is 88 and the daughter (single, no children, 60-ish) is her chauffeur, companion, and at her beck and call. I realize not everyone--in fact very few--were fortunate to have a mother like mine, but I sure wish she were here so I could take her to church, and to the grocery store, to the library, to the doctor, to concerts, or where ever she wanted to go.

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