"That seemed a funny way of referring to her name but I wondered if itwas a Welsh way of talking.Just then I saw her look behind me and a slight warin...ss came to herface. When I turned around I saw a man making his way towards us up thehill. It was the same man I had seen with Ruth these months before.This time he was puffing, almost out of breath and red faced withexertion. His hair was dark, but his moustache and temples were fleckedwith a few white hairs. He was in a suit again, even with a. She washed it down with orange juice made from concentrate.“Since I brought a can of coffee grounds, can I have a cup of your fresh coffee?” she asked when the bun was gone.“Sure as long as you brew the next pot, and put it in the aging jar,” I said. The aging jar was actually an iced tea pitcher with an ‘x’ on the outside. The ‘x’ was made of red duct tape. Like everything in my life the coffee ritual was complicated. I brewed the coffee one day, then poured the whole pot into the brewing. More

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