My love of coffee is somewhat legendary within my family. It is the kickstart of my day. I know that I am receiving a good bit of love when I wake up and the scent of the coffee brewing fills the air. When we camp with our daughter and her family, I can be sure that the first cup of coffee that my son-in-law pours will be for me.
When I go to Berkeley and get to stay in the Scholar's Retreat I am happy because of: the cost, the views, and the fact that it is the room above some coffee producing machine.
It truly is a joy to wake up and smell the coffee.
It is a long drive from Pasadena to Portland. I've learned this in a visceral, nalga numbing way because I've driven the route many a time to visit our daughter and her family in the other Rose City. In order to not get exhausted or grumpy I like to spread the driving over two days.
I couldn't tell you the number of miles it takes to get halfway between here and there. But I know that I am nearing a midway point when I see the first Dutch Bros Coffee kiosk.
Truth be told, where I stop that Day One driving has, on occasion, been decided by access to Dutch Bros for the start of Day Two driving.
Dutch Bros Coffee is always yummy, the prices are great, and their baristas are the best. There's usually a fine bit of conversation that is accompanied by a smile that seems about as genuine as can be.
There's yet to be a time when it felt like the order I placed was a bother.
Then there's the container. Brought one home to share with you.
How could one not smile?