the answer is....

goats!

This weekend's trivia question was "What farm animal, according to legend, first discovered coffee?" 
The story is that a goatherder in East Africa came upon some of his flock chomping down on berries from a small tree and they were so excited and hyper they couldn't sleep that night.  Naturally, the goatherder wanted to try it out for himself, and thus the world was changed.   Mmbbaaaaaaaa!!
I was thinking this over quite a bit after someone asked why the shepherd would decide to eat the berries that were making the goats crazier than baby goats already are.  Maybe he was just looking for a little intoxication.  I decided to believe that he loved his little goats so much that he was willing to take the risk.  So glad that he did! 

Rachel

One of the great things about my life is the fact that I can never, ever keep up with thank you notes and returning favors.  This is frustrating sometimes, because I hate to not show my gratefulness, but I often have to marvel at the fact that that's a problem in my life: that I've been given so much that I can't keep up with the thank yous.
I say this because, while there are several people that I would like to get on the roof and shout the praises of, today is a special day for one person in particular. 
My sister Rachel is Take this Cup's #1 customer.  This is saying a lot, since so many people have been so incredibly supportive.  Rachel, though, has turned up at almost every farmer's market, taking and posting pictures and modelling drinks, making recommendations to passers-by, and being incredibly and unceasingly supportive.  All the while she insists that driving twenty miles out of her way for a cup of iced coffee with some maple syrup is just what she felt like doing that day. 
On her birthday today her boyfriend Chris proposed.  I hate to admit to shrieking and crying in happiness at the news, but that's exactly what I did.  I'd like to offer my first toast to a lifetime of sweetness and long lists of unfinished thank yous.

Grandpa Brewster

I got the call that my Grandpa passed away while I was brewing the Sumatra.  My sister tearfully said on the phone that she just wanted to get outside and be in her garden, just like Grandpa would like. 
Grandpa Brewster was a dairy farmer.  His farm, which is now my aunt and uncles', isn't far from Winsted, where I'm going to set up coffee today.  I had thought about just taking the day off, but then I realized that the grandpas of the kids selling flowers and tomatoes at the farmer's market today might remember Bob Brewster, and probably very fondly.  I don't know that I'll meet anyone who knew him today, but hanging out with the farm kids seems like the right place to be today.