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The Campfire Barista…

April 29, 2010

In college I often got the remark “How are you getting through college without coffee?” and of course I also got the comment “How have you survived 4 years of studying History without coffee?” Well, the answer was simple, I didn’t like the taste when I was younger, so I never subjected myself to trying it again. I figure I probably saved myself some dough and some pounds by avoiding coffee for nearly 24 years. When Josh asked me on our first date, he asked if I “wanted to go out for coffee?” My response (via Facebook message) was “I don’t drink coffe (yep, couldn’t even spell it), but I’ll have hot chocolate.”  It wasn’t until more than two years later that he decided he would finally try persuading me into the Cult of Coffee Drinkers. My sisters, mom and grandma had already tried for years and failed, but Josh took a new perspective on converting me: Start her on Mocha, the gateway drug.

Needless to say, I had one mocha in September and they’ve been my weakness ever since.  Regardless, my “liking” of mochas has not yet progressed to a full-blown obsession with coffee, and even if/when it does I know it will pale in comparison to Josh’s sincere love for a cup of joe. On our recent trip to Jay Cooke State Park he was pretty disheartened when he realized he forgot his camping percolator (yes, they make those), and I wasn’t surprised at all when I got up at 6 am to find him attempting to construct a make-shift percolator out of tinfoil. It took a little experimentation and more than one try, but eventually we had our own little Campfire Barista right there in the woods, and although I tried to tease him about his “addiction”, I couldn’t help but enjoy a warm cup of coffe, I mean, coffee.

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