The Birds and the Beans

My late grandmother once lamented that she should never have told her children her favorite animal was the owl. From then on, she received nothing but owl-related gifts (including a rather hideous two-and-a-half-foot owl statue that migrated to our living room on her passing).

While I'm not at the point of regret, it is clear that one of my obsessions has risen to the forefront of the collective consciousness of friends and family. Computers and their related goodies are expensive; my taste in music isn't always apparent nor in easy supply at Borders (or Virgin, or Amazon.com, for that matter); and my book club drives most of my reading selections these days. But coffee... coffee's easy to gift. And since I've joked in the past that my blood type is "Starbucks-positive," it's not too much of a reach that I'll be pleased with the gift. Now, to be clear: I'm not complaining — not at all. I just found myself observing that, in the past month, I have received:

• One pound of Italian coffee beans — actually from Italy
• A Starbucks CityMug from Nuremberg, Germany
• A $15 Starbucks gift card
• A $40 Starbucks gift card
• A 2.5oz packet of Starbucks Guatemala Antigua ground coffee
• A Starbucks "Coffee, Cookies and Cocoa" gift box:
  • A half-pound of Starbucks Christmas Blend ground coffee
  • Assorted Christmas cookies
  • Hot Chocolate mix

And, by chance, at a "White Elephant"-style gift exchange, I was the lucky recipient of another Starbucks gift box, which, in among the cookies, included:

• A 2.5oz packet of Starbucks Guatemala Antigua ground coffee
• A 2.5oz packet of Starbucks Kenya ground coffee
• A 2.5oz packet of Starbucks Cafe Verona ground coffee

Yes, that's around 34 ounces of coffee beans. Add to this the one-pound bag of whole-bean Christmas Blend I'd already bought, and the $30 or so in Starbucks rewards money I have waiting for me on my Duetto Visa from all my Christmas shopping, and it's safe to say that reducing my caffeine intake wouldn't be a worthwhile New Year's Resolution... nor an achievable Lenten goal, for that matter.