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My walls are hot

By December 13, 2015 Life

It was a throwaway, a gem of maternal wisdom as I drove my mother home, past a row of handsome houses dwarfing their own front lawns. I was on my way to meet a friend for coffee at my local paper cup coffee chain.

Why does your generation in all these decorated houses always meet in coffee shops? Why don’t you meet in your own home?

It’s just a quickie, Mom-we’re in between meetings. No one has time. 

That was years ago, or a few thousand coffee cups sipped in a caffeine timeline. Was it the prompt for my morning holiday coffee party? Maybe. Then again, stuffing our space with friendly fire is old habit. Read More

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