Recently I paid a visit to the Cincinnati Eye Institute, domiciled in a large architecturally elegant building. From the looks of things the business pays pretty well. In keeping with their upscale motif there was a coffee bar off the lobby where I discovered the most wonderful coffee. It said Seven Hills Roasters on the coffee maker. I’m not a coffee fanatic, but I really enjoy good coffee. The problem is it’s very hard to find. Searching out good coffee is a relatively harmless activity that a late-innings septuagenarion can do, and it’s considerably cheaper than searching out good single malt spirits as I did in my Wall Street days.

When I paid for my coffee I inquired as to the location of Seven Hills Roasters. As luck would have it (as no good Calvinist ever said) they were 2 miles away and just off my 15 minute route home. I easily found their modest warehouse in a massive suburban industrial park. There was no storefront so I came in through the overhead door on the side where all the finished product moves out and entered a world of heavenly aromas. A good old boy came out the back door of the office, and cordially greeted me. I have read that fresh roasted coffee is the best, so I asked what he was roasting today. He said. “Follow me” and led me through a labyrinth of tables stacked with freshly packed boxes of coffee and around some impressive looking Sivetz Roasters to a long table with over a dozen white plastic 6-gallon buckets with lids. He asked my preference–light, medium or dark roast–and consulted a handwritten list on a legal pad with the names of the coffees they had roasted that morning. Then he said, “Get your nose down here near the lid. I’m going to raise it a bit and you take a whiff and you tell me what you like.” I called a halt at the second bucket–Kenya AB Swara. Glenfiddich never smelled so good. This coffee gets its name from the Swahili word for Gazelle–Swara–“because of its elegance and grace like the Gazelle. With a silky mouthfeel and notes of lavender and tropical fruit…” Man, this ain’t cowboy coffee. In short order he bagged a pound of beans, sealed it and handed it to me with a smile and instructions to give it 24 hours to “let the gases escape. Pay the young lady up front in the office.” What a delightful way to buy coffee!

I awoke the next morning with the anticipation of a kid on Christmas Day. I carefully measured the beans, ground them, filled the reusable K-Cup, popped it in the machine and waited. Elegance and gazelle-like grace tasted really great! I would even go so far as to say that the unimpaired satisfaction of inbibing the brewed essence of Kenya’s roasted coffee beans beats the intoxicating smoky notes of Scotland’s malted barley. O the joy of another life hack learned–you’re never too old! Thank you, Lord, for the simple pleasures of codgerhood.

“Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice” (Philippians 4:4), even in the smallest blessings in the mundane latter days of faithfulness.

See you in church


  1. Paul Otto Says:


    Birds of a feather, we are, in the wonderful world of good coffee. Some days it’s the only reason I get out of bed while it’s still morning after a mostly sleepless night. I make do (happily) with the Starbucks roasted product from Costco. While I type this, I take a peak at the clock… 5:30. Your post made me stir… I want my coffee. The sound of my grinder makes me realize that God has given me another day.

    God Bless you ol’ buddy,


    Sent from my iPad



  2. jdwetterling Says:

    Apparently we’re the same birds at night too, brother. Osteoarthritis, the deferred cost of football, 100+ parachute landing falls and high G’s in contorted positions, but I’d do it all again in a heartbeat and I suspect you would, too. Our God reigns!


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