Posts Tagged ‘Old Judge Coffee’

Closing this Coffee Chapter

January 23, 2013
Old Judge Coffee

Old Judge Coffee

Rising gingerly from his wooden rocker, the old man clumped across the wooden plank flooring of the front room, stroking and digging at the small of his back beneath the faded blue flannel shirt.  Must have slept crooked last night.  He continued to gouge his strong fingers into the ache buried deep within his frame.

The kitchen was in its usual untidy array of coffee mugs, cups & saucers, stoneware bowls and scattered appliances.  Reaching for the percolator, he began to refill his mug with his preferred refried coffee.  It was a return to simplicity.  The old man didn’t even drink coffee until his preacher days in college, didn’t even learn to use a percolator until he was thirty, bought his first Mr. Coffee at thirty-three, graduated to the cafe-style Bunn coffee brewer at forty, and began grinding beans five years after that.  And now, at seventy-two, he was drinking Old Judge out of a stove-top percolator, sometimes boiling a handful of coffee grounds with broken egg shells in a kettle not once, but twice, stirring, and drinking refried coffee.  He did this to savor the memory of his earlier days camping in the Cascade Mountains of Oregon. . .

Musings over Morning Coffee

January 22, 2013

Old Judge Coffee cropped

Coffee Musings

Within the ramshackle Missouri farmhouse, an aged, graying man stretched in his chair next to the smoking, wood-burning stove.  Squinting out the window into the first rays of a piercing sunrise, he watched as the shafts of winter light lanced the mists that played across the broad gray surface of the Mississippi River.  Neelys Landing was still sleeping, but the man continued to watch for the town’s first waking sights.  As the sunlight glanced off the curvature of his celadon green Fire King mug, he slowly and delicately sipped the Old Judge Coffee brew, delighting in the hot moist aroma that caressed his weathered cheeks.  What was so familiar about that smell?  Of course!  Mount Hood Coffee.  The aroma-induced recollection brought the pleasant shock of recognition, suddenly sweeping him back forty years, and away seventeen hundred miles, to an Oregon morning walk that marked the turning point of his life.  Suddenly, neither the time or the distance was significant.  Everything was rolling up to the shores of his consciousness, like the surging tides of the Pacific Northwest . . .

When the Light Fades and the Temperatures Drop

January 21, 2013
Still Life in the Night

Still Life in the Night


Great painting is like Bach’s music, in texture closely woven, subdued like early tapestries, no emphasis, no climaxes, no beginnings or endings, merely resumptions and transitions, a design so sustained that there is no effort in starting and every casual statement is equally great.

N. C. Wyeth’s final letter to his son Andrew, February 16, 1944

The three-day weekend has offered so many gifts to me, and so many pleasures, as I immersed myself in quality reading and took advantage of several opportunities to enter the studio.  Tonight, after the school preparations were made, I withdrew to the Cave and resumed this watercolor sketch I began early this morning.  As stated in earlier blogs, I am poring over a collection of Andrew Wyeth drybrush watercolor sketches of dim interiors, and am trying to find a way to break away from the light that has bathed my watercolor compositions for years.  I honestly do not know how to paint a dark composition, with light playing on only an object or two.  I’m finding this a very difficult adjustment, but am intrigued with what I’ve already discovered today.  D’Arches watercolor paper is so exceedingly bright and reflective, that I feel as though I am violating its properties by working over the surface with glaze after glaze of dark colors, seeking to drive away the light.

Tonight, I worked the reds and yellows into the coffee can, and now have to figure out how to deepen and darken the can, except for the small part that catches the light.  The same issues arise from the percolator, which sits in the semi-darkness, and has very little highlighting present on its surface.  I’ll be intrigued to see how this one shapes up in the days ahead.

Thanks for reading.