When Life Looks Different

Dear Lore,

Remember four years ago when you lived in Texas in a house full of roommates, and I lived in Portland, on campus, with an apartment full of roommates? Remember when we wondered if and when we would begin the families we would dream of and pray for together? The other night I came home from forty-five minutes of time to myself (this usually takes place while I clean the kitchen after everyone has gone to bed, but Scott came home and told me to go get out alone before Hollis awoke), and Scott was sitting on the couch reading "On the Night you Were Born" to Hollis, and I couldn't stop smiling or crying.

Last night we fell asleep to six inches of snow on the ground and still more coming down. I didn't wake until Scott kissed me goodbye and told me we had a foot of snow on the ground. Hollis got booster shots yesterday, and they always ensure everyone in the Kirkpatrick household gets a good night's sleep. I've been complaining because there's feet of snow on the ground at the cabin, and we're stuck here in Portland with freezing rain. But then this winter wonderland appeared and I can't quit stopping what I'm doing to run to the window to look outside or the door to fling it open and marvel at how snow transforms our gloomy, too small apartment parking lot into something magical.

We've been talking about expectations, us and our men, and you and I together. These first years of marriage have been full of the unexpected. You know. And sometimes the unexpected is wonderful--an unexpected bouquet of flowers, day trip to the coast, family hike. And sometimes the unexpected is difficult--a tiny apartment lived in for far longer than anticipated, a house that doesn't sell in the midst of a crazy housing market, vertigo when there's only one class left, depression, a baby that won't nap. I don't know what to do yet when my expectations go unmet.

I'd like to say I'm learning how to hold my hands open, regardless how big or small the situation, and maybe I am sometimes. Mostly when things are unexpected I get angry. I'm not proud of it. In all honesty I hate it. All I know to do when I get to that angry, upset, unmet expectations / unexpected happenings place is to hit the breaks as quickly I as can. Sometimes it's a solo walk around the block, or a hike up Mt. Tabor if I have to take Hollis with me--I always think more clearly when I'm outside. Other times it's a flurry of text messages to Scott or you or whomever texts back first, and there are prayers and love sent over wifi. And occasionally, very occasionally, all it takes is a hot cup of coffee or a latte. It's not the caffeine but the ritual, the time it takes to grind the coffee, boil the water, and wait for the coffee to brew.

In the midst of an unexpected foot of snow in our still too small apartment with my son who barely napped, I made a latte. I breathed deep as I rushed from stovetop to bedroom as I tried to cajole him back to sleep. I smiled when, finally caving and calling an end to nap time, Hollis grinned at me with his gorgeous gummy smile. I stood him in his little activity center, positioned him at the entrance of our kitchen, and made a latte.

An Unexpected Latte

2 heaping tablespoons coffee

1 cup milk (we love whole, non-homogenized in our house)

Honey or maple syrup if you like your coffee a little sweet

Grind your coffee fine, but not too fine (for what it's worth, we have a burr grinder and I ground my coffee on the second to last click from the left)

Heat your milk on medium low, stir occasionally to make sure it doesn't burn

Boil your water

When the water's boiled, pour it until it is level with the bottom of the valve on the inside of the Moka Pot. Insert the funnel and fill, but do not tamp, with your coffee (have a kitchen towel or pot holder handy because your Moka Pot will be HOT!).

If you want: while your Moka Pot is sitting, full of hot water and ready to percolate, pour your warmed milk into a french press (unless you have a fancy milk frother, then use that). Froth your milk by pumping the plunger of the french press vigorously until you have some inviting foam sitting atop your milk.

Screw the top of the Moka Pot on nice and tight, and return it to the burner, which should be on high heat with the lid open. As soon as your Moka Pot starts sputtering (it should be almost done brewing your espresso), close the lid. Immediately rinse the base of the Moka Pot in cold water.

I like to put a little of the just boiled water in the bottom of my mug to hold the shot while I grab my frothed milk. Once you've poured your espresso into your mug, top with your warmed / frothed milk. Bonus points if you can make some pretty latte art.