As my Hubby knows, I like coffee. I need to have that wonderful liquid crack slide down my throat every morning. I won’t drink just anything – it must be quality stuff. About three months ago I discovered my current fave, hand-roasted by Wyoming monks. Yup, you read that right…wild, west Carmelite monks. Mystic Monk Coffee (O.K., lame name) is damn fine. So far, I’ve only sipped the Hazelnut and Chocolate Mint flavors and, if you know me, you know that I’m inclined to favor the latter. It’s a buck or two more expensive than the pound down at Hannaford’s but to support men who pray without ceasing, it’s worth it.
I had a three month subscription that ended a couple of weeks ago. I hadn’t gotten around to reordering, so in the last delivery was this note penned by a holy man:
+ JM JT
This is your final shipment. We hope that you will continue to support us through Mystic Monk Coffee.
Thank you + God bless,
HOLY CRAP! When BROTHER ELIAS (I’ve never met an Elias before) socks it to you, eternal damnation doesn’t look so bad. So I ordered three bags of Chocolate Mint for penance.
p.s. “JM JT” stands for Jesus, Mary, Joseph, St. Therese of Avila. I’ve read that most Carmelite folks sign letters that way.