Coffee and oranges?

As a foolish undergrad, I never truly understood Wallace Stevens' poem "Sunday Morning," but I always loved the first two lines:  "Complacencies of the peignoir, and late / Coffee and oranges in a sunny chair."  It is a minor goal of mine to work through this poem in bits and pieces throughout this blog.  There is something about that woman in the poem that has always reminded me of myself.  My own Sunday mornings also remind me of that poem.  But more on that later. Much later. And much more.

Coffee and oranges.  That's where we are. Maybe it's because I just love those two things, but that simple phrase tunes my senses.  The orange is the most poetic fruit, as my first husband Topher always loved to say.  Eating an orange is incredibly sensual, bittersweet, bright, enlivening, tart, and risky.  You never know where the juice will fly. And coffee? Well, little needs to be said about how coffee is completely connected to our senses.  Thank goodness for it.

I want this blog to live in the present, tuned to the senses.  And that's the only reason I name it "Coffee and Oranges."  Thank you, Wallace.