Coffee Klatch - Beer Edition!

Coffee and books are a natural pairing. Give me a quiet garden, delicious coffee, an uninterrupted hour or two in the morning, and I'm happy.

But sometimes it's evening, and coffee isn't what I'm after. Sometimes I want a beer. And I want to take my book with me.

There's something comfortable about reading at my local. My usual seat faces out toward the street, where I can catch the breeze, watch the world go by, and enjoy being out in public while staying in my own little world.

No Kindle in this picture, but you get the idea

 

Which brings me to one of my favorite inventions for an international traveler: the e-reader. I happen to use a Kindle these days, but I'm not particularly loyal to the brand. The important thing is that it holds a library without weighing anything like an actual library.

A big advantage of bringing your e-reader to a bar? Anonymity.

A physical book invites conversation, and as much as I enjoy bookish chats at times, I do not crave that kind of attention in a bar. With my Kindle, nobody knows what I'm reading, and nobody asks.

Now, I know a lot of women feel self-conscious about going out alone, so allow me to suggest one more big bonus of the e-reader: it acts as a sort of social shield! Bar, restaurant, coffee shop, wherever you are - with your Kindle, you're not alone, and you don't look it. You're reading.

Nobody questions it. 

At least, I don't think they do. I'm too busy reading to notice what anyone else is doing. And maybe that's the point. 

There are plenty of reasons to go out alone. You don't need an excuse or companion. All you need is a good book, drink of your choice, and if you're lucky, a seat with a breeze. 

Fiction Friday - Need To Know

"Have you seen your sister lately?"

Beckett hid his instinctive "freeze" response by looking up as if in thought. "Not really. Why? Should I have?" He turned a passably curious look toward his mother. She was preparing dinner and he had come into the kitchen to grab a can of Monster from the fridge before returning to his work in the basement.

His mom wasn't actually looking at him, but said to the vegetables she was washing, "I know she's old enough to do what she wants, but it's been a few weeks since she's called. I thought maybe you ran into her during one of your campus runs."

"Nah, sorry." He shook his head and closed the fridge door, anxious to get back to his fortress. He should have graduated last year, but got a lucrative job with a digital company and now worked more hours than he studied. One class per term, with a hard push over the holidays, and he should get his degree next spring. 

He was almost out of the kitchen when his mom added, "Well, keep your eyes open for me, will you? I know she has friends around there." Beckett raised his can in a toast of agreement, hoping she saw it. He didn't dare turn to face her and risk giving up the game. 

Sascha was on the run. He hadn't lied to his mother. Not exactly. Personally, he hadn't seen her for a month, but since becoming a Gatekeeper for the "Hidden Kitty" underground movement, he was aware of her progress through coded second-hand messages.

Neither Beckett nor Sascha liked keeping their mom in the dark. She had always been a supporter of Sascha's... difference. But when laws began changing against different innocent segments of the population, her head had stayed firmly in the sand. "Just because they've outlawed this one type of person," she would tell Sascha, "Doesn't mean that someone like you is in danger." 

Sascha disagreed and wasn't willing to risk it. When they came after a group, they came suddenly. When they started coming for people "like her", it would be too late to formulate a back-up plan. 

Fortunately, Beckett was still active at the university. Sascha had graduated and moved on, but had heard about a rebellion growing there. Together they found the right people who could help her.

As she prepared to go into hiding through Hidden Kitty's network, they realized their mom would not only be a liability to Sascha, but would herself be in danger. They had to keep her out of it. During the weeks of Sascha's prep, Beckett had become more involved with the organization. Now he was in a position to send and receive the coded messages. 

Sascha was safe at the moment. Mom was worried. Beckett could stop the worry, but at the risk to countless others in positions like Sascha. Small price to pay.  

Wednesday Poetry Corner: Indiscriminate

Indiscriminate -
Days of downpour, sun, drizzle...
Beaker traumatized. 🙀 

(haiku written by me on August 17, 2026)

As I said, we don't get as much rain here, but it is unpredictable.

Well, was unpredictable. Then I realized that Beaker disappears shortly before the rain starts. I don't know how he knows, but shortly after he hides under a bed, the tin roof begins echoing. He'll come out when it's quiet, but with such spotty showers, sometimes he races off to hide several times a day - heavy or light rain, either way.  

He's more accurate than my weather app! 

Monday Coffee Klatch: Odd Combinations

I don't remember what made me try salted coffee the first time, but it quickly became one of my favorites.

Salted coffee sounds weird, right? Ew!

Now, don't go dumping a bunch of Morton's into your coffee grounds. That's not it at all. The coffee doesn't taste salty. The salt is in the salted cream.

Less "Ew!" and more "Oooh!"

And not just a little cream, either. A nice, unapologetic dollop of it, floating on top of coffee that's already been lightly sweetened with condensed milk.

My favorite salted coffee back in Hoi An tasted almost like salted caramel. A sweet and creamy treat for the tongue. Definitely more of a once-in-a-while cup o' joe.

At the nice places, there's a bit more production to it. Coffee on the bottom, creamy layer on top, smoothed out and finished with a dusting of cocoa. 

It's pretty. It's indulgent. It's utterly unlike what the name brings to mind.

...Because at no point does it taste like "salt + coffee."

Which got me thinking about other combinations that shouldn't work, but somehow, for me, they do.

Like Stephen King and Terry Pratchett.

In the past year I've fallen into a pattern of alternating between them. Have you read either one?

King, of course, is known for horror. Pratchett is, well... fantasy, absurdity, social commentary, and a view of humanity through a cracked lens. They couldn't seem more different.

And yet, I've discovered two things they have very much in common:

They both have a VAST catalog.

And, once I'm reading one of theirs, the story just carries me along.

Since The Shepherd’s Hut by Tim Winton, I've gone King > Pratchett > King: 

Revival, The Light Fantastic, and now The Sun Dog. 

When I'm out with my Kindle and finish a book, it's easiest to pop into a familiar style. I guess that's what I like in my go-to authors: that confidence that there are plenty more good books where that came from.

So, who's your go-to author? Or do you bounce around like me? (I do have others, too.)

I'd love to know whose book you pick up as "comfort food" for the brain. I'm always looking for my next book.

Fiction Friday - The Mango Tree

 

Until he figured out what he really wanted to do with his life, Jesper judged he had it pretty good. 

He'd graduated in May. Now he stood in the morning light with a hose in his hands, humming along to the music playing from the speaker nearby as he washed fallen leaves off the paved circle under the mango tree. He looked up and nodded his chin at his sister when she walked in, late to work as usual, followed by the first customers of the morning. She'd seen what he was doing, so he knew she'd get their orders. He moved the hose to blast the leaves off the platform into the pebbled floor a few inches below. 

As he moved around the tree to clear the other side, the water ran down to a trickle. Odd. 

He looked into the end of the hose. He traced it along the ground with his eyes, checking for a kink. Walking around to look more carefully, he double-checked that no one had moved a chair onto it. Not that anyone was sitting up in this part of the coffee shop. The tables weren't set up here yet today, but sometimes customers took matters into their own hands.

The hose was fine. So what gives? 

He went back to the main spigot. Vanya met him there, on her way back into the kitchen with an empty tray. "All finished?"

"No, but the water seems to be."

"Uh, no. Water's fine. I just made two green teas and an iced mocha."

"Well, it's not reaching this pipe, then." He squatted down to get a better look at the connection.

"Weird. So are you going to help me with customers soon? We're filling up."

She was right. Half a dozen tables were occupied now. Time to switch gears.

When their mother came in an hour later, she took her time walking between the rows of tables, checking that no customers had been neglected, before sitting in her usual spot near the kitchen. It was her name above the door and she took an active interest in how well her kids were running it. 

Finally, they had both returned empty trays to the kitchen and came to sit with her for a few moments to take stock of the day. 

"Good," she said when they had both sat down, keeping half an eye on the room in case anyone needed attention. "News." She stated the word as an agenda item. "We knew it would happen sooner or later. Water rationing starts today." She glanced from son to daughter and back. It was their turn to contribute.

Jesper's eyebrows popped up to his forehead and back into place. "That explains the hose cutting off before I finished," he said with a wrist flick toward the mango tree. 

Mother nodded. "We will have to water the trees from a bucket, and only if it hasn't rained for three days." 

"What, there's a rule?"

"There are rules for everything now. Everyone's been too careless about water for too long. It was bound to happen."

"What about the drinks?" Vanya asked.

"Ah, yes. The critical question. This morning, as soon as I heard the news, I already sent a request for a special exception due to this being our family business. Until we get the exception, I'm afraid we can only serve until our daily business water ration has been used up."

The kids digested that news in silence. "So... closing time is just - whenever?" Vanya liked to know her evening plans before her workday ended. Mother nodded, eyeing her.

Jesper grinned wickedly. "Better update our hours online, sis." 

She squinted at him and pursed her lips in a sneer. This would upset a lot of schedules. A lot of lives. Without a word, she pulled out her phone. He wasn't wrong.

Jesper was almost disappointed not to have gotten a bigger rise out of her. With their mother looking over Vanya's shoulder, he considered the open garden seating area with new eyes. The hose was still lying in broad curves beneath the mango tree. He went over and began coiling it up. 

Today's story was inspired by watching the boy at my favorite coffee shop (see Coffee Klatch post here) hosing down the leaves under their mango tree. Water is a finite resource that not enough people treat with care. There's enough violent post-apocalyptic fiction written about it, but how will it start? 

Wednesday Poetry Corner - Sleep Well!

Nighttime showers fall,
Not too loud and not too soft.
Good sleeping weather. 

The view from my reading nook

 

The climate here is one of the things that drew us south. We may be 4 degrees of latitude closer to the equator, but Mui Ne is sandwiched between ocean breezes and an inland desert, so somehow it all balances out. Yesterday there was a shower in the afternoon, and then - nothing until bedtime. Much better than weeks of straight typhoon dousing! 

Monday Coffee Klatch - A Midsummer Night of Richard and Henry

Today we're settling in for a couple of hours at a place I go for coffee semi-regularly. Not actually a coffee shop, this is a public food court in town. I love it - burgers, curry, tapas, all in one place - and a full bar that serves coffee and smoothies and offers western breakfast dishes until 1:00. Basically, if I get hungry while I'm reading, I have options. 

It's a little farther from home, which is why I linger longer than at a local coffee shop. Plus, the salted coffee is on par with my regular place, only bigger. Bonus! 

Salted coffee at Dong Vui Food Court

Today, let's talk Shakespeare!     Wait! Come back!     

Don't run away! 

I get that he's intimidating. (Is he still required reading in high school?) 

I had read The Biggies: Midsummer, R&J, Hamlet, Macbeth, Much Ado, Othello. Comedy and Tragedy. But a few years ago I realized I was lacking in knowledge of his Histories. 🙄 So I decided to read one play a month, focusing on the histories. 

I'm an actress, and for decades I've had the embarrassing experience of being around theater people talking about plays they've been in - King Lear, Richard III, Henry IV - and thinking, I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about.

The first year I did this, it was almost all histories broken up with a couple of lighter, familiar ones. By the end of the year, I had read a whole bunch of Shakespeare's histories and could no longer remember which Richard had done what to which Henry. So I started an ongoing Shakespeare book report. Now every year gets its own document, with a section for each play. All I really do is briefly summarize what happens in each scene. It's not scholarly analysis. I'm trying to write approachable summaries. This is my personal Shakespeare survival guide: What the hell was happening here again? Now I don't have to go back to SparkNotes every time I encounter a play I've already read. 

For a while I had a chat group for people who were interested to try the challenge, but most people tapped out. The two who stayed in had already read most of his catalog so they became my Shakespeare lifelines whenever I needed the benefit of someone who had actually read the introduction. 

By now, monthly Shakespeare has become a habit. There are still plenty of plays to go, but some months I revisit one of the more confusing ones, and sometimes I choose a play I particularly like - like Macbeth every October - just to keep the fun in the challenge. 

And now, when someone quotes Richard III, I might even remember the reference!