Sunday

... Also known as My One Day Off.

In a previous life, before I went back to work, every day was my own to schedule. My calendar was empty yet I never felt like I had a real "day off." There was always something more to be done such that time could not be taken to actually enjoy this amazing place called Southwest Virginia. Now, I work almost every day, have violin lessons twice a week, practice regularly, yoga classes, a meditation group, and go dancing quite frequently.

It's very busy.

Yet, somehow, the chores get done and I have time to enjoy what this community has to offer. Today it's the  Blue Ridge Music Festival's final concert for which I am volunteering in exchange for hearing some of the best classical musicians in the region play in My Little Town.

For two weeks I've been enjoying free open-air concerts from my perch up in the coffee shop. Woodwind quintets. Brass fanfares. Julliard trained violists and trumpeters struggling to pick up bluegrass rhythms in a pick-up band on the street. (The instruments were fiddle, mandolin, banjo, viola, to-go container with spoon, collapsed music stands, and floppy priority mailer, FYI.)

The same night I heard this "band" (they were invited for a command performance at the Floyd Country Store moments after I left) there was a young metalhead playing electric guitar with an old country western guitarist and a blues harmonica player who was celebrating his 63rd year on this earth by fulfilling his dream of coming to Floyd and jamming with the street bands.

I love having all this music around. It fills my life and makes it beautiful.

On Being a Good Barista

This blog is mostly the writing of The Fiddling Barista but all the girls have been invited to write. Here follows some beautiful thoughts from The Blonde Brewista. [T.F.B.]

So, I thought some of you would like to hear a little from our (meaning my) point of view of being a Barista of the Black Water Loft Team. Ever since I was little I dreamed of being the cool hipster girl who went and got coffee on the street corner, who did her "homework," and drank coffee for hours... (I also dreamed of having a baby blue Volkswagen Beetle and a mini Yorkie named Lucy but our stories are ever changing...)

When I was interviewed for this job 2 years ago I thought my dream would finally come true. I was wrong... It was even better than I imagined!

I, personally, was only looking for the stereotype of what society thinks a "Hipster-Barista," is but I learned many Barista Lessons over my training that made me rethink what being a Barista really was. The first rule my manager taught me was, "If you screw up a drink and are on the edge of tears? DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT!!! Just breathe, throw it away, and start over." This being the most scariest truth became a reality to me when I worked my first afternoon shift alone.

It was a Sunday...
In the middle of summer...
The days were hot and...
Wait this isn't a military movie!

The second Barista rule I learned was you WILL learn how to multitask. Nowadays multitasking refers to talking, texting, and socializing but for a Barista its a whole different ball game. The definition for us is being able to take orders while making a One shot, Decaf, Non-fat, Latte Frappuchino,  with whipped cream of course!!! Me being a newby at this scared the BUH-JEEBERS out of me. But over time and lots of practice (and explosions) I learned how to "Barista Multitask."

The third golden Barista rule was to keep an open mind.  Meaning: be able to invent a new drink for a local who wants something different for a change; listen to people's life stories if they're willing to tell them; be able to ask the right questions when needed; be there for others who are struggling and having the worst day of their lives; or just offer a cup of joe to the exhausted parent who has been up with a baby all night. This rule was essential to me in becoming the the Barista I am today: I love to listen to others. I love hearing their stories and hoping one day I will have just as amazing a life as they had.

Being a Barista is not just serving coffee to the public: it's learning how to do many things at one time, learning how to stop and take breath when things go wrong around you, being a friendly ear to a total stranger and possibly make a new friend at the same time. Although my ideas of a Barista have changed, I believe, hands down, that it is for the better.


                                              A Latte Love,
                                                The Blonde Brewrista <3

Our Town

It was a slooooow morning at the coffee shop today and The Blonde Brewista was reveling in the change from her usual busy weekend shifts. "Is it always like this?" I had to tell her that, no, sometimes it's slower and sometimes it is super busy with tourists and caffeine deprived locals jonesing for our hipster-approved coffee after a busy weekend.

I shouldn't say that. Floyd has no real hipsters. Nobody cares to follow the trends so closely.

We have old hippies
and farmers
and Menonites
and Virginia Tech grads who stayed on
and their kids who value quality of life over fabulous paychecks.

We have hundreds of musicians
almost as many artists
some trustifarians
and a pretty awesome "hippie school" that breeds valedictorians with full rides to Ivy League colleges.

Floyd has one stoplight
Two groceries
Three gas stations
Four regular music venues
and Five banks if you count the informal loan system and a credit union thirty miles away.

There is no Walmart, Target, or Lowes and you will see luxury cars at the dollar store.

Somehow, this little town on the Blue Ridge supports The Black Water Loft.  The locals prefer our powerful drinks made with locally roasted, small batch, socially conscious, gourmet coffee to the usual sort found in other shops. We're just different that way... just like Floyd.