That Coffee Life {In the Dark Room}

When I was a little girl, my father used to drink his coffee from a beautiful brown mug that had a whistle on the handle. We were never allowed to touch his mug, except on the occasions when he’d turn the handle so we could blow the whistle. I’m not sure why but this was…

That Coffee Life {In the Dark Room}

On the photo are the names of all the places I’ve lived.  When I was a kid, my dream was to be a foreign correspondent. Or a spy. I wanted to go to war zones and report on humanitarian issues. I imagined myself going into the jungles and interviewing warlords. Just my camera and my…

That Coffee Life {In the Dark Room}

I started drinking coffee when I was about 10 years old. We were living in Italy at the time, and every Sunday after church, there would be a beautiful spread of coffee, tea, hot chocolate, and assorted baked goods. I walk beside the table, inhaling deeply, enjoying the various smells, but it was always the…