Dear Kid,

As you probably remember, Dad spent much of the summer tending his vegetable gardens with the love and care usually reserved for offspring.

Because of all his hard work, we’ve enjoyed home-grown cucumbers, tomatoes, zucchini, beets, and a melon. Ok, we didn’t actually enjoy the melon; it was pretty awful. But the rest of the produce was great.

Last week we celebrated Harvest the Corn Day. Yep, we grew corn (and by “we” I mean Dad did all the work and I occasionally glanced out the window to see that, yes indeed, there were cornstalks in the middle of the backyard). And yes, we know it’s October, but getting seeds in the ground early is generally not part of Dad’s farming protocol.

The Puppy carefully supervised the shucking and cooking of the corn, waiting (im)patiently for some to drop on the floor.

The corn was excellent. By far the best Dad has ever grown. 

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

It’s National Coffee Day.

By all rights, the banks should be closed, all offices and schools should be off, and tickertape parades should be held in celebration.

Wait. Cancel the tickertape and confetti. That might get in the coffee. Eww.

Birds are singing. Lattes are being poured. And all over the world, people are gradually becoming sufficiently caffeinated.

Happy sigh.

You already know my most important thoughts about coffee: Make good coffee. Drink it. Be human.

And you know that the Cincinnati Coffee Festival is coming to Cincinnati November 11 and 12, 2017 (shameless plug).

But did you know:

Coffee was the first food to be freeze dried. And yes, it’s a food.

The largest “cup” of coffee ever brewed was 3,700 gallons. That’s a lot of coffee.

You know the wonderful scent of a freshly opened bag of coffee? It might be fake scent. Some companies (include Dunkin and Stbx) use faux coffee smells to convince you to come in, stay longer, spend more. And that same technology is often injected into bags of coffee to, um, “enhance” your bag opening experience. (And I don’t care. I love the smell of a freshly opened bag of coffee.)

In England in the 17^th century, women were forbidden to drink coffee in public. Who’s sipping now, huh?

A tall Starbucks coffee has about 7.6 times the caffeine of a can of Coke and more caffeine than a 12-ounce can of Red Bull. Go easy, young grasshopper.

Coffee grounds are environmentally friendly slug repellant.

A third of the tap water Americans drink is consumed after it makes a trip through the coffee pot and becomes liquid gold (by which I mean coffee). But the liquid gold euphemism works, because coffee is second only to oil in being the top traded commodity.

Johann Sebastian Bach wrote a cantata inspired by coffee addiction. Ahhh, Bach. (Serious extra points if you get that one.)

The oldest cat ever was Creme Puff, who lived to be 38 years old and died in 2005. The owner fed her coffee, bacon, eggs, and broccoli every morning. This is not a recommended diet for cats. Or people. Or turtles. (Have you ever seen a turtle drink coffee?)

Happy National Coffee Day.

Love, Mom

For those extra-devout among us, Radar O’Reilly said, “Ahhh, Bach” on M*A*S*H. Great episode (weren’t they all).

Dear Kid,

“None of these leaves are good?”

As far as helpful conversations went, that was right up there with “Hot enough for ya’?” and “Hey, you’re bleeding out of both ears! You OK?”

While Dad was out of town, I harvested and cooked some Malabar spinach. Note to burglars: He’s back and anyway I had the Vicious Attack Dog with me the entire time.

Malabar spinach harvesting is no easy matter.

First you have to convince this spinach. This involves a lengthy conversation with an uncooperative vine which has wrapped itself into the Gordian Knot (remember that one?) of complicated vine-ness. And it’s not just one vine—oh, no. It’s about a thousand on one plant.

Then you have work quickly because the leaves (the part you eat) get surly very quickly. You cut each and every leaf off the vine individually, inspecting for wear, tear, and wildlife as you go, and graciously cutting the remaining vine and unusable leaves into smallish pieces so they can be taken out to the compost pile.

After that, you wash and dry the remaining leaves and then, and only then, can you begin the process of cooking.

Since the ratio of compost to usable plant material is about 400 to 1, you can imagine the whole thing takes a while.

And the last thing one wants at the end of the process is to have someone peer into the bag (did I mention how nicely cut up the compost was?) and insinuate that you might have overlooked some small portion of edible spinach.

Possible responses:

“Wait, I wasn’t supposed to keep the bad ones and toss the good ones?”

“I left them for you to go through.”

“Die now.”

…The Look…

Being in a nice mood (and by “nice” I mean not in the mood to be questioned about why I murdered my husband), I opted for The Look.

To his credit, Dad correctly interpreted The Look and immediately said, “How ‘bout I take out the compost? Right now.”

Good recovery, Dad.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

Any requests for dinner this week?

Nope.

Anything you don’t make yourself so you want to have before you go?

Not really.

Chicken? Fish? Grilled cheese?

Whatever you want is fine with me.

Apple cake or honey cake?

Anything you want, Mom.

Some people would assume you are the Most Easy Going Kid on the planet. (You’re not, I checked.)

Other people might assume you are singularly focused on your phone and had no idea what I said. (You probably were buried in your phone, but you surfaced enough for the conversation. I checked.)

Still others might assume that you are doing your best to drive your Beloved Mother crazy. (You weren’t. You have other tricks for doing that.)

You were just being you. And you honestly had no preference for whether we had fish or chicken.

Which was fine except for the part about you leaving for your internship in a few days and me wanting to spoil you a little before you go.

We could go out to NameOfLocalRestaurant.

I meant spoil you by cooking something you’ll remember. And we’re paying tuition, so we can’t afford NameOfLocalRestaurant.

I like shepherd’s pie…?

EXCELLENT! (Excuse me I have to go fix dinner.)

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

Just in case you weren’t sure, coffee is a big thing.

Not just in my world, but across the galaxy.

“Coffee: the finest organic suspension ever devised.” Kathryn Janeway, 2374

Fortunately, an appropriate celebration of coffee is coming to Cincinnati.

The Cincinnati Coffee Festival will be held November 11^th and 12^th at Cincinnati Music Hall. Yes, you heard read me correctly. The Festival will be one of the first events at the Music Hall after the renovation, which is very cool.

And there will be coffee, which is very, very cool. Or hot, depending on how you take your brew.

There will also be tea and chocolate and music and a latte throwdown and pastries and all sorts of marvelous things.

Makes you wish it were already November, doesn’t it?

“It is inhumane, in my opinion, to force people who have a genuine medical need for coffee to wait in line behind people who apparently view it as some kind of recreational activity.” 
― Dave Barry

The Cincinnati Coffee Festival (I do like saying writing that) is a benefit for Ohio River Foundation. Coffee and saving the environment. It’s a beautiful thing.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

It’s official. We the People have lost our collective minds. We have crossed the line. Stepped over the invisible barrier. Gone a bridge too far.

We have pumpkin-spiced everything that should be and a great many things that shouldn’t.

I love fall. I love the cooler temperatures. I love the changing colors of the leaves. I love pumpkin-spice flavor.

But perhaps there should be limits.

A friend of mine recently asked (on Facebook where people answered) for fall recipes that weren’t pumpkin spice. I thought she was over reacting to the season.

No, no, my friend. If anything, she understated the obvious. I just somehow missed the memo.

Until I went to the grocery store last night. And almost passed out from pumpkin-spice variety overload.

What’s next? Pumpkin toothpaste?

I thought I was joking. Buzzfeed thought I was joking (great little blog on things that should never be pumpkin-spiced here).

But Amazon took me seriously.

I need to go lie down for a while.

Love, Mom