Writing Idiosyncracies

I've given myself a deadline to finish my latest novel in May.
I have a two-week break from my daytime teaching job, so I figure that I have no excuse. Even if I take time to workout in the morning and keep the house running with cooking, laundry and cleaning, I should have plenty of time to write.
If I don't buckle down and write, then I need to find a full-time job and stop calling myself a writer.

One of my most prolific and happy times as a writer was when I would go to Caribou Coffee to write.
Since Caribou Coffee closed, I haven't regularly settled on a place to write, other than at home.
Home is full of distractions, my children come and go. They ask for help with things or wonder if I have time to make them coffee before they run out to work or class.
The cats beg for attention; the pile of laundry demands equal devotion. A dust bunny blowing across the floor hints at other tasks that need doing.

At Caribou, which closed in 2012, I'd listen to music, sip my mocha and write.
The coffee shop had high ceilings with duct work visible. Wood or concrete floors and cozy nooks, along with warm lighting all made Caribou a welcoming place to work.
Often, if I was there in the morning, I'd buy a pastry. It had a cream cheese filling and the pastry was flaky with large granules of sugar on top. Yum.
Just recently, I brought home some pastries from the grocery store. The inside was cherry, but the outside was that flaky crust with large granules of sugar. Just like the pastry that inspired me at Caribou.
Suddenly, I knew that if I could eat one of those pastries in the morning, I could write!
That first day, I put away the remaining pastries so one would be there in the morning for my writing.
When Spencer came in from a friend's house that night, I heard the cabinet doors opening and closing as he searched for his post-midnight snack.
The next morning, no pastries remained.
So I went for a run then, still sweaty, went to the grocery and bought a box of four more pastries.
As I ate one, I wrote.
Things were going well; I figured I'd follow the same plan the next morning. But when I got home from work that night, the pastries were gone again.
This morning before I went to the gym, I stopped at the grocery and bought another box of pastries, so that when I got home, I could do some writing. Since Spencer is still in bed (almost noon) the pastries remained, and I was able to eat one and made some good progress on my writing again.
Once Spencer is out of the house (he's going back to college for summer classes next week), I'm sure I'll be able to to keep pastries here and write each morning.
I may gain 20 pounds, but dammit I'm going to finish that book by the end of May.  

Saturday Snapshot -- Fancy Coffee

To participate in the Saturday Snapshot meme post a photo that you (or a friend or family member) have taken then leave a direct link to your post on Alyce's blog At Home With Books. Photos can be old or new, and be of any subject as long as they are clean and appropriate for all eyes to see. How much detail you give in the caption is entirely up to you. Please don’t post random photos that you find online.
When our local Caribou Coffee closed, we were sad to miss the delicious coffee and the great space.
But we decided to use it as a chance to try some local coffee shops. At this one, they do a fancy picture in the foam at the top of the cappuccino.

I'm not sure what kind of skills this would take. I sometimes make my own cappuccino and I'm lucky to get a nice head of foam on it.
I know the barrista at this coffee shop has entered contests for this. I wonder what the contests are called. Coffee foam designs?

Passing of a Landmark

I woke up at 4:15 this morning and lay in bed thinking about all the things I need to accomplish. Finally at 5 I got up, made myself a cappucino and here I am avoiding that list of things by writing a blog post instead.
Still, something important has happened: Our local Caribou Coffe is closing.
I'm so sad.
I know it's a chain, but it seems like a fairly reputable chain. They are 100% Rainforest Alliance certified -- whatever that means. They give me 50 cents off when I bring in my own cup.

Here we are sitting outside Caribou on New Year's Day.

It's a place we walk to at least once a week.
Caribou is closing because a local restaurant offered twice the rent that Caribou is currently paying. I hate that restaurant. Yes, I resent it because it drove Caribou away, but the two times I've been to that restaurant, bad things happened. Once Earl and I went and he bit into something metal in his food. (I'm not sure why we didn't sue them. Then maybe they wouldn't be able to afford to take over the Caribou space.) The other time I went to the restaurant with a bunch of girlfriends and a waitress spilled an entire Coke down one friend's back. (You remember that don't you, Stephanie?) To apologize, they offered her a cellophane wrapped cookie rather than offering to pick up her check. This place obviously has no people skills.
Even before we moved here, I spent a lot of time in Caribou. That's where I started retreating in the early mornings with my laptop. I wrote my first two books tucked into a corner at Caribou, sitting on the hard wooden bench, listening to the whirr of the coffee bean grinder.
I can still taste the creme horn pastry that I used to buy as my fingers tapped away, creating characters like the homeschool mom Annie who sold her minivan and ran away to Europe with her three kids. Or the two women, Jess and Andi who decided hiking the Appalachian trail was the best diet plan they could find.
I love the open ceiling that shows duct work painted a dark rust orange. The floors are green concrete except for a raised wooden section in the middle. The decor is Craftsman style, which is the style of the house we ended up buying when we moved closer. Not that we bought here just to be closer to Caribou.
Earl and I had many date nights at Caribou. It was one of the attractions that first brought us to this little town. And my friend Sheila and I have met at Caribou more times than I can count. We settle into leather arm chairs and lament the price of motherhood.
So the closing Caribou leaves a gap. Sure, there are other coffee shops nearby, but this Caribou felt like a community.
Oh Caribou, we hardly knew ye...

Christmas Gift Snafu

Consumer Reports magazine has a section at the back called "Selling It" that pokes fun at the warnings or advertising used for products. I should definitely send in this one.
About a month before Christmas, I bought a travel mug as a gift and wrapped it up, looking forward to the day it was unwrapped and admired.

The handsome brown mug has a no-skid bottom and an aluminum insert so the hot beverage doesn't taste like plastic.
Then we opened the mug and saw the instructions.

I'm not sure how helpful this mug will be for drinking coffee or tea when it can't be filled with hot liquids.

Java Addiction

I'm pretty sure this is a bad sign.

My Starbucks gold card came in the mail yesterday.
I didn't even know they had gold cards.
I may have an addiction.
And Starbucks doesn't even know that I'm getting my other fixes at Caribou Coffee.
Oh, what a world.

iPhone Coffee Apps

This weekend as I got to the point farthest from my house on my run, I felt a sharp pain in my right knee. I tried to run through it but the pain continued. So I started walking.
As I walked home, I thought of the Caribou Coffee shop just up the street. I could stop and get a coffee since I had to walk anyway. But I didn't have any money with me. All I had was my iPhone, which serves as an iPod while I run, tucked safely into my water bottle belt.
Then I wondered about Apps. Did Caribou Coffee have an app that I could download, load up with money from my bank account and use to buy coffee? I searched apps but couldn't find one. Then I found the Starbucks app. During that rather long walk home with the painful knee, I concentrated on adding the app to my phone. I downloaded it and saw that I needed to enter my username and password, which I already had since I'd registered my Starbucks card before. Next, I added some money to the card, and, Voila! I could use my phone to buy coffee at Starbucks. Unfortunately, the Starbucks was not on my walk home, so I would have to wait before trying it. When I left later that morning to drive to Trader Joe's, I drove through Starbucks and handed over my own cup to fill with coffe and my iPhone as payment.
I'm not sure why it is so exciting to hand over my phone to pay for my coffee. I guess it's just one less thing I have to remember when I leave the house in the morning.
I love technology.

Scary Painting

This morning, I am determined to rewrite the opening line of my novel. I packed up my computer and biked down to Caribou Coffee. This place has great writing memories for me. This is where I came early in the morning for weeks and weeks when I was writing my first novel, leaving the kids at home with Earl.
I felt sure I could make some real writing progress here.
The room has a warehouse feel in the open ceiling that shows the ductwork painted a redwood color, but the floor is wood and painted concrete and the furniture has a crafstman style -- wooden love seats with upholstered cushions, leather arm chairs and slick wood tables with straight backed wooden chairs.
Many of the tables are taken and even more of the outlets for plugging in computers are occupied. I spotted an open table and made a beeline for it. I set up my computer, even finding an available outlet. Once settled at the table, I looked up and nearly jumped away from the pastel drawing that is hung on the wall above me.
Caribou displays the artwork of various artists. Some of them have been whimsical, some of them beautiful. This one was just scary.
At first, I thought it was a painting of a sad clown. As I looked at it more, I realized it was supposed to be a woman with a hat.
Either way, it's definitely inhibiting my writing.
The placement of the lights didn't make for a clear picture, but I think you can get the idea.

Now I need to ignore the freaky woman peering down at my computer and try to write.
The drawing is for sale for $50 if anyone wants to buy it and get it off the wall so I can focus on my work again.

Odd French Combination

My morning began with coffee
French mustard

And a silky blue scarf from a vintage store in Paris.

It sounds like one of those food games where you have to open your refrigerator and make something out of the contents. Coffee and French mustard may very well be in my cabinets and refrigerator, but if I put the blue scarf in the refrigerator, it may be there as a flag of surrender because I'm out of red wine.
Instead, that's how my morning started when I met my friend Sheila for coffee and she brought me goodies from Paris.
Thanks, Sheila. You can visit Paris without me anytime as long as I reap the benefits!