just a cup of coffee

It is amazing to me that the littlest thing can spark a huge flurry of memories. This morning, for example, I dropped off Cali at the groomers and on my way to work swung by one of my favorite coffee shops on the East End for a cup of the world's best coffee (coffee by design, duh). After I grabbed my cup of Jamacian Me Crazy, I walked s.l.o.w.l.y back to my car- completely transported to 2005-2006, back when I lived on the East End, in an apartment with two crazy girls. In an apartment that overlooked the ocean, that had a living room with 12 windows- all that caught the sea breeze just right- and a deck where you could sit and watch the boats come in at night. I remember Saturday mornings in that apartment- the sun would stream into my bedroom, my gauzy curtains would shift in the light breeze and the distinct sound that only seagulls can make would fill my ears. No matter how late we stayed out the night before, my roommates and I were early early birds- 7am when it was sunny, 8am on a rainy day. But on those sunny, seagully mornings- they would trickle into my room around 7am and climb into bed with me where we would recap the night before and laugh. We would pass the Advil bottle around, then shrug on a sweatshirt, our rainbow flip flops and shuffle out into the bright Portland morning sun. We would walk the 1/2 a block to the tiny hole in the wall coffee shop- order large coffees to go and bagels with cream cheese. From there, we slowly made our way to the East End Park, where we would sip our coffee and slowly become human again. Laying in the dew covered grass, we would watch as Portland woke up around us and make plans for the night ahead.

I miss those days. My coffee this morning brought me back. I miss the East End. There may be no place in Portland that holds my heart more than that tiny neighborhood, tucked up on top of a hill overlooking the city and the sea. The houses and apartments are all close together- beautiful Victorian buildings with decks and porches and lilac trees. A few restaurants and little organic grocery store have been added into the mix- but other than that, nothing much as changed. I love the quiet, sleepy streets. I love that people have these insanely gorgeous gardens around their homes- behind wrought iron fences and old wooden doors. There is an old stone church that has been refurbished into a local community arts center and a tiny library and an old lookout tower...

Man I love that place. I need to spend more time up there. It is a happy place for me and I am so so so glad that I stopped for that cup of coffee this morning- what better way to start a Monday than with some amazing memories?


rach said...

I love having moments like that...such a small thing that can trigger 100 different memories! sounds like a killer apartment as well!

B said...

that sounds magical! i want to live in your old apartment!! happy monday!

Anonymous said...

Your old apartment makes me swoon! I love/hate those feelings of nostalgia...I'm so fond of my memories of friends and old times, yet thinking of them makes me yearn for them so badly! Guess I should try to live in the present a bit more!

jackiek said...

wow your old routine sounds amazing.
i just found your blog and i love it! xo