My drinking coffee

I remember that Oliver's neighbor brought already brewed coffee from home and that it was inconceivable to my mother to the extent that she could not relax and simply enjoyed the coffee. Trying to figure out why the neighbor was bringing coffee, she dispelled every possibility of enjoying the moment, enjoying the neighbor's coffee.
I remember women, in house dresses, gathered around small cups, only slightly larger than cups, which could barely hold a couple of sips of coffee. The coffees were short and the conversations long, lively, warm. Recipes were exchanged, lunches, cakes, grandchildren,children ... Husbands, mothers-in-law, livers ... and all that without malice to pass the morning and fill the day. Often, a younger woman among them would receive a package from her homeland from her mother, grandmother, and even from her mother-in-law. Then the pattern of freshly knitted buttocks and socks would be measured, the loops on scarves would be felt and counted, sweaters knitted in a way that no machine could knit. A mouth full of vanilla, which is combined homemade apricot jam, the older ones, but also the grandmothers themselves, they said, with a set in their eyes "Blessed are you ..." Thinking then that they have not had any of their elders for a long time, it rolls and unwinds slowly.

Fortunately, I remember people who shared pleasure and tears, successes and failures ... and it will never be clear to me how it can be unimportant who lives next to me. I can't help but wonder where the neighborhood is, the fabulous, colorful, fun, envious, hilarious, caustic, hard and yet infinitely dear, the one who will shake his head when you do something he doesn't like but will run to give you hand if you fall. Where are we in a hurry while our coffee cups are getting bigger and deeper and the company is less or less ... Write us who you would drink coffee with.?