My father has been a woodworker for longer than I’ve been alive. His first wood shop was in the back garage of our house – there was a little wood pellet stove, saws, and tools galore all crammed into this two-car garage. When I was still really young he moved out of the garage and into his first proper shop across town.
My dad has always been an aspiring coffee nerd. When I was young he would always be trying different coffees and brands. Back then the terms were more like “Kenya AA” or Peruvian when you were getting into the good stuff but nevertheless I remember him analyzing each cup.
Mom’s coffee-life began watching her parents start every day with a cup of coffee. She recalls fondly how she would come down from her bedroom after her father was well into his day, always finding a trail of brown coffee droplets in the hallway leading to his office. Not much of a coffee drinker herself, her time would come later, in her early twenties out of necessity.
Oh the mid 90’s. Yes, the years of My So Called Life, crazy bubble gum packaging and Boyz II Men. Who didn’t slow dance to “End of the Road” or have a serious case of unrequited love for Jordan Catalano? I can only speak for myself I suppose…