The Coffee Hour

It is the place where  I feel so relaxed i could float.  I am able to speak my mind, wear no mask, and laugh, speak and dream without abandon.  It is the Coffee hour. 

I have watched my Father live this ritual for years.  When I was too little for school I would go with him to the "Travelers" where he would meet up with the same group of guys since he started working as boy.  They would all order coffee.  A ticket to the show, I always thought.  Dad never really even like the stuff, but he liked the company.  It was mostly loggers, a few others who grew up around here would join now and then.  Politics would fly like a ping pong ball, never landing and never causing a rift but always making one "think".  Religion was never discussed.  But local news and game scores were a given.  I was brought a cup of cocoa and a powdered doughnut.  I listened, drew on a napkin and learned a lot.
As the years went on My Father continued to enjoy the Coffee hour. The restaurant changed hands and a new group of men had come; Realtors, lawyers, developers even poets.  Only a handful of Loggers remained.  But all coats were shed when the coffee was poured, and no one had anything to prove.  They just enjoyed each others' company..."shootin' the breeze".

I guess as a grown woman now I longed for that ritual I had witnessed so often growing up.  I wanted a connection.  I wanted time with friends with no agenda. We live in a time where everything is going so fast, and there is always something to schedule, to accomplish, to prove.  My generation grew up watching "friends", a sitcom of a group of very diverse people who got together everyday, to take time-out in a coffee house and were accepted by one another for who they were.  I wanted that.

Awhile back I was invited to go to a local wine and coffee house for a knitting day.  I was both intrigued and intimidated.  I do not knit.  But I liked the idea of "meeting at the coffee house".  So I went.  The girls there were a diverse group, everyone of them beautiful and accepting, and creative.  I loved it, I loved talking about things and "shooting the breeze".  I loved sipping my tea out of a cup that took both hands to hold.  I did not accomplish knitting, in fact I vowed it would not be attempting it again!  But they welcomed me back just the same.  I have continued for over a year now.  It is my therapy, my time to feel like Jennifer...just Jennifer.  I have no scarf or afghan to show for it, but I have a happy heart and a group of gals that inspire me.  I look forward to climbing the steps, getting a big chair by the fire, ordering my cup of Joe, and hearing what is happening with everyone...and there I fit.