The smell of coffee in the morning

Yes, it is one of my favorite things. The smell of French Roast or Hazelnut coffee brewing in my coffee maker. Today it is French Roast.

So how do you take your coffee? I drink my black. No sugar, no cream, no syrups, no nothing. Just coffee.

Coffee has some magical powers for asthmatics and people with other lung diseases. If someone is suffering an attack and there is no rescue inhaler available, then give them a hot cup of coffee. Something in the aroma will open up their lungs. They do not even need to drink it just inhale. But me if you put a cup of wonderfully aromatic java in front of me, I will drink. I love the stuff.

What does coffee have to do with my writing journal. Well, i cannot write without it. Ok, not true. I need either coffee or wine. You can always tell when I have sat down at the computer with a glass or two of wine. Chapter 23. Ah, but you must wait. Coffee would not have resulted in that chapter. In fact, I believe I had a few glasses of single malt scotch! Now that will cause my mind to move into unusual thoughts. lol

perhaps my blog would be more humorous if I had a glass of wine instead of coffee. But I do think drink sets my mood for writing, and food, and the lack of sound. I write best when there is dead silence. Well, maybe the overhead fan but no tv, no radio, no cds, no you tube; just dead silence. Comes from my working days. I had to work in quiet. Except for voices. good gosh, when I was a contracting officer for the federal government, we worked in offices without walls. it was like a bull pen. Everyone talking on the phone, to contractors, to supervisors, to friends and acquaintances nonstop. From the time I arrived to the time I checked out, there was this steady din of voices. After awhile, the voices became my blanket in the cold cruel world. I do understand why they call the things comforters. I was comforted by the voices. Now they are just voices in my head! lol no, the only voice is mine talking to me. All the time. I used to tell my boys it was the only way to have an intelligent conversation. I even talked out loud. All us lunatics do that.

I miss the voices. Long before retired I was moved up to a policy analyst job. Believe me there is a reason the name starts with anal. I was happily moved to an instructional specialist and found my "home" for the last fifteen years of my career. It was quiet there. I was allowed to tap into my creativity when developing courses. I did use skits, mysteries, games, and other fun exercises. Before I took this job, I remember sitting through courses that bore me to tears. I kept asking the instructors, if my job is so exciting and fun why is this class so boring. Well, the rest of the story is saved for another day.

Today, I will take on chapter 25 (which is almost finished, anyway.) tomorrow, Chapter 26 (while posting the next chapter for my loyal readers). Chapter 27 will be done on Wednesday, and chapter 28 on Thursday. Ambitious, I know but these chapters are not in bad shape. I have to get ahead because Chapter 29 starts a whole new "book". Many writers seem to break up their story into books. Pamela Aiden did and my favorite In Loving Memory did. So why not me? Book one is chapters 1 through 28; book two 29 through 50. not an even split but the story does change at that point.

Well, on to Chapter 25.

till later

(thanks Frances and Melda for letting me know someone out there is reading my journal.)

anyone else wanting to share with me, either leave a comment at the blog or drop me an email:
gayle.messick At gmail.com (you know the drill)

But unlike posting the story, this blog is pure 100% vanity! So no comments are required. Just read what you will. But if there is ever a time you feel the need to tell me something, email or comment away.

gayle