Equator Estate Coffees & Teas is a women–owned company, co-founded in 1995 by Helen Russell and Brooke McDonnell with a mission to “continue to be a growing, customer-centric company, dedicated to quality, environmental sustainability, and social responsibility with a commitment to procuring distinctive coffees from growers who practice responsible land stewardship and bio-friendly farming techniques.” With that in mind Equator has just launched Chido’s Blend, a blend of three African coffee beans with 100% of the profits supporting the work of Chido Govero, a 23 year old woman from rural Zimbabwe who is training her fellow orphan girls to grow critically-needed food using little more than coffee pulp and grass clippings.

Govero, who is pictured on the label, will use proceeds to build housing as well as to support training program in many coffee-growing countries.

Chido’s Blend has floral and fruity notes, supple spice and wood flavors and retails for $13.95. Learn more and support the cause by clicking here!

Writing in Panzano, Italy

Hi Everyone!

I’m off on vacation through August 5. Going to fill the well-

Enjoy!

Photo Credit: Marty Muniz

My first trip beyond the Mississippi was a visit  to Canyonlands National Park in Moab, Utah. I camped there with my boyfriend for two weeks .

I was taken by all things west: the vistas, the sense of distance, the deep blue sky, the dry air that cooled in the shade, even though it was 100 degrees … and the smell of sagebrush.

The sun beats down on the smoky green-gray plants, causing their fragrance to fill the air. It enchanted, intoxicated me. For years after that trip, I  was transported immediately to the mesas and hoodoos of Canyonlands by even a tiny whiff of sage. Even now, the smell of sage lifts me, calms me, takes me back to that first time.

Which was in the early 80’s.

Researchers say that of all the senses, the sense of smell works most effectively on human emotions. Scent plays a big part in memory, too.

Right now, the Russian olive trees are in bloom in Idaho. When I moved here, I planted one in our yard at the suggestion of my friend, Tom. Years ago, he lived in Colorado and recalls how heavenly the smell of Russian olive trees can be.

It is. Heavenly.

But the nicest part of the smell of Russian olive trees? I think fondly of Tom. Miss you, my friend.

Photo Credit: Tony Crider

A friend of mine threw caution to the wind yesterday and got on a plane headed to Spain and Morocco.

For her, these past few years have been a whirlwind of change (haven’t they been for most of us?). She quit her job, her father passed away, she bought a house and moved away … she’s found it difficult to find satisfying and well-paying work, she’s been re-thinking her vocation, she’s worried about her financial future.

Day upon day, she’s stacked up the stress in her life and it’s been weighing her down.

Her mom lives in Marbella, Spain part of the year. When her cousin planned a visit there – complete with a road trip to Morocco – she simply couldn’t resist joining him. Being together once more in a warm and exotic part of the world.

She simply has to fill the well.

She’ll see her mom again, have her hair styled by a favorite stylist in Marbella. She’ll visit her father’s place of birth, Fez, while tripping it through Morocco. She’ll return to Madrid, after the relaxing train ride from Malaga to the capital city, where she went to high school.

She’ll travel for the soul.

For those of us who can’t get away physically, take a trip with Traveler’s Tales. These stories transport the reader on a journey to the heart, most of the time. The books are available online or in book stores, but you can read new works right on the website, in “Editor’s Choice.”

There are times in my life when I wake up and read a story along with my first cup of coffee. I randomly chose a destination, move quietly through the pages of the story and feel refreshed in the end.

It fills my well.

Photo Credit: mzarzar

In the morning, I can hear the violin.

The weather is nice now, and all the house windows are open. So, I can hear someone playing the violin. The music is coming from across the golf course in my back yard.

It lasts for a little while, maybe 20 minutes tops. Drifting up and down the sixteenth fairway, serenading.

I could ignore it. I could allow myself not to hear any of nature’s sounds: the bird song, the odd squawk of the pheasants that live in the ravine by the side of the road, the car traffic … the plunk that a golf club makes when it hits a ball, the soft talking of the golfers … and the violin.

But the music compels me, lets me remember what all the great spiritual teachers tell us: live in the moment. So I pause, and listen, and feel grateful.

Years ago, during a cooking class in Italy, the full moon rose over the olive trees and grape vines of the villa where we were learning to make arista al chianti – pork loin with wine sauce. In the middle of our preparations, we walked right outside to greet her, taking the moment to savor la bella luna. It was then that I realized what cooking dinner in Tuscany was all about.

What living in the moment was all about. And it feels wonderful.

Right now, a soft rain is falling, tapping our gravel patio outside the window. I allow  myself to hear it – and enjoy it – for the moment.

Photo Credit: eflon

Natasha is one of my oldest friends. She lives in New York, and I am about to sell my house on the left coast and move permanently to Idaho. So I don’t get to see her as often as I’d like.

If there’s one person who can make laugh through it all, Natasha can. She is one of the funniest people I know, even though I know this is pretty subjective.

During our most recent phone conversation, I ranted, raved, almost hyperventilated, while talking about the state of my life right now. Stressed out, sad about leaving a place I feel so right about, trying to wrap my brain around what I like to call, “menopause mind,” Natasha simply called my name. “Janet,” she says, in her distinctive, Demi-Moore-type alto. “Janet. You’ve got to stop. You’ll have a heart attack.

“Then she gave it to me. Natasha uses Chinese herbal medicine to cure her woes. She calls her doctor by his first name, Jeffrey. She was ranting during one visit, blubbering on like a crazy woman just like I was and Jeffrey took a long look at her, touched her head and “You got ‘yadda yadda’ going on in there?” Jeffrey asks.

“Yeah, get this ‘yadda yadda’ outta my head,” Natasha responds.

Ahh release. Laughter. Even now.

Now, I offer this little phrase to you. Whenever your self-talk is in a snit, think of it. “Get that yadda yadda outta your head.”

Perhaps it will help you release it, too.

Janet Muniz

(photo credit: starmamma)