Is this normal?

Do you put cinnamon in your apple cider?

I was in line to get a coffee the other day. I just wanted a simple black coffee …a la cup. Everyone in front of me wanted multiple special order items. Super duper extra time consuming latte , topped with a froth of more time, and some extra seconds sprinkled on top. Oh… Could I get that in 2 cups with two cup sleeves…and a straw….make that 2 straws ….and a spoon. Even more irritating are the line slackers that wait till its their turn to order before even considering what they wanted. They arrive at the counter as though they have just discovered it. “hello, I was sent on an expedition from across the sea to explore where lines end. Some believe that lines fall of the edge of the square earth, but I have discovered this one has treasure at the end. What might I acquire in this wonderland? Oh you have a large sign visible to anyone within 100ft? Interesting. Could you read it out loud to me? No wait! I will guess at what is on the sign, like a game of family feud.”. Even worse than the ‘guess what i want to order ’ game show….the cashier interrogation. This is the interrogation I most recently witnessed…

Customer: ” do you put cinnamon in your apple cider?

Cashier: “(befuddled look, wondering where this is going) yes mam, we put cinnamon in the apple cider.”

Customer “does it come in the apple cider, or do you put it in the apple cider”

Cashier turns to apple cider chef ” do we add cinnamon to the apple cider” Apple cider chef. “yes”

Customer. “can I get it without cinnamon”

Me…thought bubble (she could have asked this question at the beginning!)

Apple cider chef : ” there’s cinnamon inside the mixing container, if you are allergic, I don’t think I can get it clean enough”

Customer ” no I am not allergic, but last week I had an apple cider here and it was too cinnamony. So I would like it with less cinnamon if thats possible”

Me : thought bubble… This is the only sentence the customer needed to speak to have resolved the situation

Apple cider chef: “no problem, I just won’t add cinnamon”

Cashier : “will that be all?”

Me (of course it won’t be) I will spare you the details of the further dialogue, but it concluded with the cider needing to be extra hot, one latte being extra hot with skim milk only and a final ‘regular’ latte…probably for the friend too embarrassed to come into the shop, and culminating with a quest for a banana that clearly was not available in the shop. I know what some of you are thinking. This woman has a right to order what she wants and take the time she needs to do it. I don’t think that’s entirely true. When did we all get so prissy as to need everything made customized to our personal exacting requirements? Is this a right? I appreciate that merchants continue to improve service levels to delight their customers, but we shouldn’t let this get to our heads. Jesus washed the disciples feet, but he didn’t give them all pedicures. I get the same experiences on the highway, at work, at church…it’s MY turn to order, it’s my road..my lane and you can’t enter it, my work information and I wont share it, my church building and you can’t change it. I am selfish, impatient , and intolerant…I know this. But i would encourage everyone to take a step back and consider getting back to the basics. Order that latte straight…see if you can enjoy it for what it is. Drink that apple Cider at whatever temp it comes out…with or without cinnamon …take that risk, accept it for what it has to offer without customization. Experience it as delivered with an open mind. I guess I should apply this principle to the lady ordering apple cider. I am sure she was uncomfortable confronting the cinnamon controversy head on, and had to come at it from a less direct angle. A line for coffee on a Sunday before 10am is not the place for the feint of heart, however. When you step in that line, you have to be ready!!

Every year it’s the same situation. We (my wife) meticulously plan our garden in the early spring with a blueprint of exactly what ‘crops’ will go where, how many plants will we tend, how much bigger will our agrarian experiment be? This is typically followed by a request that I move the garden fence to accommodate our expanded bounty. In the last 3 years we have moved from 6x6ft of deck boxes, to a deer fenced & gated 10x16 plot and this year to 16x20ft. I rototill, we pay the kids to pick up all the rocks, I buy and install more fence, Shawna acquires additional irrigation and plant support gadgets (ie the newest advancements in tomato lattice) we work in the proper ground nutrients, and we are off to the very gradual and anticipatory races. For the first month, we (my wife) rigorously defends are fragile ecosystem by smiting any unwanted insects, molds, spores or grubs by creating an organically responsible, inhospitable environment specifically formulated for our unwanted guests. Various powders, sprays and tactics are deployed in the cleansing and purging process. During the dog days of summer, we irrigate our moisture retaining bed of straw mulch with leaker hoses and create the magic of rain for our precious plants with various elevated sprinklers.

When the first delightful specimens are ready for consumption, there is great merriment. We don’t even wait to bring them in the house, but eat them right of the vine, whether it be tomato, bean, or pea.

Here’s the kicker, when the garden finally comes into full harvest…there’s no time to harvest it. Pound upon pound of tomato lie on the ground, like a post apocalyptic tomato wasteland. The green onions are prehistoric in their size, having long passed their ideal point of ‘plucking’. The squash and zucchini have grown wildly in the ghetto of our garden, attempting to jump the fence and escape their abandonment. All the energy, preparation and dreams of spring have been swallowed up by a busy summer and a busier fall.

I watch the garden withering, and think of all the wasted tomatoes we won’t be eating. I will wince at every jar of tomato sauce and every can of diced tomatoes we buy this winter. Perhaps I will stage a silent rebellion… Only Alfredo sauce for me this winter, in memory of our fallen fruit.

What is the lesson from all this? Ideas are exciting.  The beginning of the journey is filled with anticipation and wonder…the unknown. We nurture and foster the fragile beginnings of our idea to make sure our dream doesn’t perish to soon. Finishing is another story, however. It can be tiring, difficult, and anti- climactic. My wife is a great starter, while I am a great finisher. That should be a great combination (and it usually is). Our only problem is….she doesn’t start the things that I want to finish, and I don’t like to finish the things she starts. It makes me think about the importance of knowing our strengths and weaknesses, and being open about where we need help before we start down a path. And then…the most difficult part, acknowledging and discussing our need with others. Giving ourselves a role we can actually fulfill, committing to it, and then supporting others in the role they have committed to (vs the role we assume they should have.)

I am going to think about how we tend our garden. I think there’s still some tomatoes out there I can save. A couple of extra spaghetti dinners before the ‘alfredo rebellion’ of 2010 launches.

Let’s not get carried away with this one. The first time is always awkward and uncomfortable, So it’s best to keep it simple and short, and look forward to the second time