"I'd had a feeling for some time that there was something worth writing about coffee. My attachment to it. My desire to draw my children into it."

Good God! Would someone please have a cup of coffee with Judith Warner?

She seems to have immunized herself from ridicule by tying her bland coffee musings to mourning over dead family members. This post about coffee and dead loved ones is about her previous post — a week ago, in what counts as blogging on the NYT site — which was about coffee and dead loved ones. There's musing about musing about coffee and death:

I wanted to capture a sense of lost worlds. I wanted to try to express what it felt like to have the time to be present. I wasn’t prepared for how much the piece would end up being for me about loss. About interruption and sadness and relationships ruptured by death or distance or estrangement or the indifferent cruelty of growing up and growing away.

One would have to have a heart of stone to blog about that without snarking.