A good (cuppa) joe

My husband and I carpe diemed this afternoon and drove around the countryside’s winding roads looking at the colors, the meandering road lined with gold(en leaves). Gorgeous oranges, yellows and reds against the greens, against the blue and white of the partly cloudy sky and reflected in the wind-rippled surfaces of ponds and lakes. Trees and bushes dressed up for the biggest party of the season.

We wondered how best to toast this escape into the blazing autumn. Ice cream or coffee? The ice cream shops my husband frequents on summer motorcycle rides were closed for the season. Coffee, then? There is a coffee place that overlooks the lake, but as we pulled into the parking lot, we could see the CLOSED sign in the window. We drove on until we chanced upon a small coffee shop a mile away and across the road from the lake. I’ll be polite and say there was little charm in the decor of the place and not a lot of choices though there was a reason for this last part which we had not yet grasped.

Two regular coffees (house blend) and a cinnamon role to split between us from the owner who seemed alternately ready to talk us to death and leave us to sit in peace. We expected little though the coffee cups were a nice weight and were of a height that meant we’d have plenty of room for cream as well as coffee.

It’s always when you have no expectations that you’re truly surprised. Best cup of coffee we’d had in ages, possibly even surpassing our own house blend which we think is pretty good. And the cinnamon roll, heated and dripping with a cream cheese icing that made us scrap every bit off the plate, was the perfect compliment. When we paid, the owner would only take $2 because, he said, it had been so nice to have someone there to talk.

It was nearly 3:30PM when we rose and made our way to the door and on the door, we saw the sign, OPEN 6AM to 3PM. Profuse apologies on our side, smiles on his as he waved us good-bye. As we drove home along curving backroads, we agreed about the coffee and the cinnamon roll we’d had. And we agreed about the owner of the coffee shop. He was a good joe.