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Last weekend, Husband and I went to a coffee-roasting demonstration.  It was really very interesting.

We learned about the two basic types of coffee beans (robusto have more caffeine, but arabica have better flavor).  We watched as the raw beans went from army green to tan to deep, roasty brown, and presently, we sampled cups of freshly-roasted coffee.

I should insert here that I love coffee – I drink my coffee black, and I’ve done so since I was a teenager.  I’ve loved coffee since long before all those coffee memes became cool.

Did I mention that we were learning how to roast coffee – at home?   In a popcorn popper?

I can’t even tell you how much I wanted to bring home a big old bag of coffee beans, order a hot-air popper (that I could make a couple of minor modifications to, thus invalidating the warranty, but SO WHAT?), and try my hand.  After all, how nice would it be to not just enjoy freshly GROUND coffee on the weekends, but freshly ROASTED and ground coffee?  (Along with, say, home-cured and smoked bacon?)

That would certainly make it worth getting up early, wouldn’t it?

The problem is that I do this All. The. Time.

A while back, I saw the neatest thing – someone had taken a wine bottle, cut it in half, inverted the top of the bottle and used it as a planter, which was set inside the bottom of the bottle, which was filled with water.  So I collected a bunch of empty wine bottles, did some research, ordered the glass cutter, picked up a few other items, and started some little herb plants for my kitchen window.  This was GREAT!  I could make little herb planters, maybe sell them in gift shops or wine shops in the area, and I’d be RICH!  So of course, I went to work emptying some more wine bottles.  I’m nothing if not dedicated to my craft.

My plants very quickly became rootbound and died.  I haven’t touched the glass cutter since.

Before that, I was looking for a long leash for dog training.  I found one online that I really liked, and I was even willing to pay the absolutely criminal price for it, when I realized that they were made to order, and it would take up to six weeks.

Pfft. I decided that in six weeks, I could learn how to splice my own rope, so that’s exactly what I did.  I checked out several very nautical-looking youtube videos, visited a marine shop, and bought a couple of sailor’s tools (a fid and a fid pusher, if you must know) and some nice rope.

I wondered how many other dog-owners out there needed a nice, well-designed, heavy-duty long leash?  I could maybe sell them through one or two of the local training facilities. . . I was sitting on a GOLD MINE!

I’ve had a box of brand new rope – various colors! – along with various sized fids and pushers, just waiting for me to get back to it for a couple of years now.

We’re not going to go into my foray into homemade mozzarella cheese.    I still have some rennet tablets knocking around somewhere, I think.

Or the meal prep business we started several years ago that literally bankrupted us.

Or any one of the thousand other ideas that are flitting in and out of my mind at any given time.

a person who cultivates an area of interest, such as the arts, without real commitment or knowledge.


I’d like to report that we went home without a sack of green coffee beans.

I’d like to report that.

However, I did pick up a small bag of beans.  Just enough for one small batch – a couple of pots of coffee.  Really.


Categories: Uncategorized


4 replies

  1. “It seemed like a good idea at the time” is something I mutter when I see my good intentions spread all over the house.
    “It seemed like a good idea at the time” when I married my first husband. Thank goodness he’s not spread all over my house anymore.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Today you crack me up and I laughed out loud because I can visualize you doing just this. You also remind me of DD who also can be observed with this kind of thinking, planing, plotting and activity. Good luck to both of you.

    Liked by 1 person

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