Talking Furniture

writing desk picThis post is the result of a writing prompt on  Nothing profound.  Just a little something to keep the writing process fresh.

Writing Prompt:

You return home from work to find a Dear John letter on your kitchen table. Oddly enough, it’s from one of your favorite pieces of furniture. What does the letter say?

Dear Sir:

I’m sure that you’ll be surprised to read this, as I know your intentions have been good.  As a matter of fact, they’ve been so good for so long that I allowed myself to get lost in the promise of what could be.  Your hopes became my own.  I knew that together we could accomplish so much.  You spoke of your plans many times.

When I first came to your home, I heard you tell others how long you’d searched for me.  Just for me.  I had the “special something” that you hadn’t found in others.  When you showed me to my own space in your home, you made sure that everything around me was set perfectly.  You stood back to admire me, and you smiled.  It was a genuine smile born of contentment.

Maybe that was the problem.  Maybe you were content to simply find me.

I heard the rumblings from the others.  They said it wasn’t rare.  You did this kind of thing all the time.  I would get used to it and become resigned to my fate.  I didn’t want to resign myself to anything, I told them.  I had done that before.  It’s not a good feeling, and I believed your words enough to know that this time would be different.  I hate being wrong.

This letter hurts.  It hurts because I still believe that you can do everything you’ve planned.  Your ability has never been questioned.  The magic that cannot be given or taught is there.  The only obstacle standing in your way is you.

I’ve been here for you from the minute you showed me to your study.  The refuge you created for me is the stuff of legend.  The bookshelf filled with works of all the great masters.   The antique area rug giving the room a warmth that fosters creative inspiration.  The reading chair in the corner.  Your grandmother’s reading lamp.  I was the last piece: the most important, you said.  Our study, you called it.  This is where great writing was to take place.

Well, the writing never happened.  Too many things got in the way.  So it’s my turn.  I’m a writing desk.  My name is derived from the fact that I was fashioned to give authors a platform on which they can transfer thought to paper.  This never happened.

I love being a writing desk, but by definition, a writing desk that never assists in writing is simply a desk.  While you may be content to hide behind your untested potential, I am not content to be just a desk.  So I’m writing.

I am once again a Writing Desk, though not in the sense you intended.

You are missed,

The Writing Desk


Wisdom Found In Life’s Little Moments

From time to time life provides us with little moments that, if noticed, demonstrate the depths of God’s wisdom.   If we’re honest with ourselves, these moments happen more often than any of us realize.  From observing basic laws of nature to the contemplating the vastness of the universe….from conversations with a child to quiet moments of personal reflection…God’s forethought in designing everything around us is evident.

Last weekend, while on vacation, my wife & I were able to witness one of these moments.  We had the rare privilege to actually capture the moment on camera, and I thought that I would share it with you, my readers—my friends.

The lesson learned?

Sometimes God’s decision NOT to give us something actually frees us to focus on the more important things in life.

I hope the photograph is as uplifting to your spirit as it was to ours.

Tiki Pic

Java Jury

coffee courtLadies and gentlemen of the jury, thank you for being here today.  You have been assembled, not to determine guilt or innocence, but simply to provide clarification on an issue that is at the heart of one man’s identity.

This is an issue born of selfish interest.   I have gathered you here today to assess two charges that have been leveled towards Yours Truly.  After hearing the evidence, you will be asked to decide which, if either, of the labels applies.  Your decision will be final.  With this in mind, I ask you to take a moment to contemplate the gravity of your actions, and to realize that based on your recommendation a man will be labeled for life.  Yours is the power to hurt or to heal.  I trust you will understand the gravity of the situation and judge accordingly.

This brings us to the nexus of our discussion:  Am I a Coffee Snob or a Coffee Connoisseur?

You have been chosen as jurors because I trust your intellect and value your judgment.  This process will be simple.  I will provide you with facts and opinions that apply to the person I see when I look in the mirror.  From there, I will allow you to determine which moniker applies.  Let’s begin.

 Fact:  I appreciate a truly good cup of coffee.

Opinion:  Good coffee is not readily available to the masses.

Fact:  I choose to roast my own coffee at home.

Opinion:  A French Press is my preferred method for brewing.

Fact:  Milk & Sugar are perfectly acceptable additions to coffee.  For women.

Opinion:  Starbucks jumped the shark when they introduced their own instant coffee.

Fact:  I have never once ordered a Venti Triple Skinny Half-Caff Latte Extra Hot Extra Foam No Whip With Caramel Drizzle.  Never.

Opinion:   Flavored coffees are unnatural and just plain wrong. (this can also double as a Fact)

Fact:   I prefer ordering a “large” coffee.  Not Venti.  Not Sumo.  Not Mega.  Not Ginormous.  Just Large, please.

Opinion:   The perfect complement to a good cup of coffee is a refill.


While this list of facts and opinions is by no means exhaustive, I feel it gives you a firm grasp on where I stand on the subject of coffee.  To me, these seem perfectly logical stances.  To other, perhaps they are extreme. 

 The decision now rests on you, good people. 

Coffee Snob or Coffee Connoisseur?

 My psyche awaits your verdict.