I woke up in a lackluster mood, no inspiration for a blog post, started anyway but thought better of it. Then I noted a comment on yesterday's blog sending me to this website:
Looks a little incomplete -- and that link may not take you there -- so I'll tell you the gist of it in case you come up with nothing. It's a Los Angeles Times article about the latest research on coffee, coming up with the conclusion that coffee helps people focus and consequently learn and perform better. This is common knowledge, or conventional wisdom, however you want to say it; yet it has been refuted over the years as other research indicates one thing or the other about coffee. Some studies indicate that coffee may be a factor in the cancer battle, either preventing or causing.
I have been a fan of coffee for years. When my daughter was born 43 years ago, my mother came to visit for that obligatory two-week-with-mother deal for new mothers of the day. At that point I and my then husband adored my mother, who was cute, chipper, and loved babies, particularly little Alison who was born with a full head of hair, just like all her own babies had been. Mama always had a wonderful, obliging nature and a good disposition. She was not one to complain or carp. She had a ready laugh and a childlike sense of fun and adventure. As long as she got her morning coffee.
The baby visit was my first real clue to this. We were meeting as adults; she was a guest in my house. I knew that she and Daddy had a percolator and had coffee first thing every morning, but I was 22 years old and was not indoctrinated into the habit yet.
The first morning she was with us was the first and only time I saw the other side of her -- disgruntled, angry, intolerant, snappish. Finally she said in no uncertain terms: I need a cup of coffee! and I learned a lesson. I learned to make coffee, too. And from then on I too had a cup or two with breakfast every day.
I have quite a history with the brew. From time to time I limit my intake, and had recently gotten it down to two cups for breakfast, two days a week. The L.A. Times piece made me feel today would have to be one of those days. I made a pot of strong stuff, and hoped the brain would do its work with proper lubrication.
I'm here to testify to the researchers: I feel brighter, more alert, ready for the day, and happy with that particular memory of Mama without her coffee and the two weeks of getting to know her better as she made the acquaintance of her granddaughter. You never know what a cup or two of Joe will do for you.