Jonathan and I had a lovely chat this morning. We don't talk as much as we used to talk, I miss his voice, him, which causes me to appreciate these conversations more.
Today he was talking about the delicious cup of coffee he had made. Talk about bringing vicarious joy to me!
I have often lamented my dislike of coffee. The only good coffee, I assert, is muted in tiramisu. In other words, with lots of sugar and lots of cream.
What I do like a lot, however, is Jonathan's like (love?) of good coffee and his ongoing enthusiasm for the drink. I love how coffee houses became our way of exploring new cities, and old ones alike. Often the coffee houses would have tea, sometimes not. They would always be a destination, multiple destinations, that enabled us to find new areas, to walk to new destinations, to expand our knowledge of our temporary home.
