here I am above the circle & it’s pouring outside with slippery ice you’ve to wear brodder to walk on. All around town you hear click/clack of brodder.
What is brodder? it’s small non-corsive metal spikes that grip the ice & it holds you upright. This week I was fooled by snow, gentle patches on the ground covering the ice until you dislodge a piece of snow & down you go.
It’s sad we may not have a white Christmas just gray & wet like Seattle winters. The temperature is hovering at nearly 40 degrees; to warm for my down jacket.
I miss those ristretto pulls & the way my favorite baristas knew what I drank. Here the shots are lungo, bitter with no crema. The milk is sweet without sugar & when it’s heated right it foams beautifully.
I heart you Seattle & dream about farmers markets & low elevation “snow.”