What's really going on the in the horse paddock


Spring Saturday afternoon in September.
I've hopped on my bike to get some coffee from Carlisle Street. We've been given a coffee machine and finally I have the time to buy our first coffee; recently all time has been consumed with work.
There's more rain coming in, blowing down from the north, big blobs falling from the charcoal grey sky. I reckon I have enough time to get to the shops and back but then, I'm not too fussed if it torrents down again - any excuse to hang out in the Newsagents for a while, flicking through art mags.
In the coffee shop I explain my situation, that this coffee purchasing is a new experience for me. I'm guided by the man who serves me, he pours $6.50 worth of beans into the grinder, then into a brown paper bag.
Mmm m! A brand new experience - freshly ground warm coffee wrapped in a paper bag. Oh, how lovely it is!
It's not raining so it's home time for me. But what to do?! I didn't remember to bring a carry bag with me.
Ah, of course!
Up and under my top with the bag, I tuck it into my under-garments and it warms my chest.
Oh, bliss, riding home with a warm bag of fragrant coffee aroma wafting up into my nostrils.
When I get indoors the rain buckets down again.
Fancy a coffee?











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