Due to it being mud season, one must be flexible in one's schedule. Every Sunday I record a podcast at our house with my most excellent cohost, Brady. However, due to my driveway being, well, a bit impassable to cars, we had to adapt our recording schedule.
That little life diversion set off a course of events yesterday that included many hours of both delightful and somewhat interesting diversions. One of the more elating instances happened when my co-host was derailed by a meeting gone awry (the other attendee was late), so I had a bit of time to burn before he met for our recording sesh.
Fun fact, I rarely buy a coffee. Like, hardly ever. Don't get me wrong, I love, love, love a luscious espresso, americano, or breve, but I have an affinity for being frugal, so I tend to support my local coffee shops by purchasing beans from them and making my own brew. Plus, I don't drink a ton of coffee. But, on occasion I enjoy it as a treat, so with a few extra minutes available, I decided to whip into Careywood Coffee Company in Athol, Idaho.
Athol is a tiny town. Well, was, but things are a changing. Athol is home to the Pacific Northwest's largest theme park, Silverwood. It is also home to a lovely little coffee shop. My easily bemused form gets overly excited about unexpected things in unexpected places, so my inner weirdo got really amped when I walked into the generic white shop door set in the side of a standard large metal shop building that currently houses a little market and chiropractor, and like Lucy in Narnia, was transported to a different setting altogether.
A charming simplicity radiates from the space, everything is shades of gray, blue, burlap brown, and chalk board black. A complete lack of pretentiousness colors Careywood Coffee Company, you can tell they care about what they do not how they are perceived. The bags of coffee beans sitting on pallets next to a big table that beckons you to sit a while made me feel welcome right down to my still chilled from winter toes.
After getting a sense for the space, I was welcomed by the sole barista in the joint, she was just so sweet, but not saccharine I'm just doing it for the customer service gods so. I sensed she was genuinely happy I walked through the door, and as she set about composing my salted caramel breve, I chatted amiably with her while I took in the sights.
Everything screamed competent minimalism. The menu was not some overwhelming monstrosity, rather it was a to the point offering of well-crafted delights. The baked goods in the case by the pay-point was full of goodies both gluten-laden and not, all crafted in the artisan style with a focus on composition not mass production.
To my right was a long wooden bar, and at it was a man on the phone. He had a pleasing voice, though at this point I might have been fully entranced by the homey vibes that struck me when I sauntered in. My face broke into a big smile as I noticed the giant moose head on the wall above the chatting man. The moose's job was to oversee the roasting machine below it, that's my theory anyway.
My musings were broken by the barista walking over to hand me my coffee. I thanked her and we finished up our interaction the way hundred of thousands of shopkeepers and customers do, with expressions of gratitude and hope your day goes well, well-wishes.
I'm just so thankful that instead of being annoyed by being inconvenienced time-wise that I decided to go on a little adventure instead. Discovery and whimsy are far greater uses of living in the moment than spending my precious time ruminating in anger or annoyance over something that I have no control over anyway.
And on that note, I have seeds to start and pizza to construct, hope you all have a little bit of whimsical adventure today, no matter what Life throws at you馃槉
And as most of the time, all of the images in this post were taken on the author's coffee foam encrusted iPhone.
