It's the last of my Kaffa Buni from those blessed Ethiopian life givers, who must work from before sun-up toafter sun-down to provide for their families' well being.
(I really wish I could just adopt a family and give them my banking info and have them send me my coffee, directly. BUT, NO! I have to grace the palms of several middle men with my "pretend" silver and gold and several revenue grabbers along the way, before I can get my Kaffa Buni)
I hate all those bastards. I understand why some of my early relatives "shot on sight" at the government men who came looking for their stills to assess tqxes. The stills were the only way they knew how to support themselves, except smithing, but they were making permanent fixtures, not stuff that needs to be fixed next week.
