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  • December 27, 2021 1 min read

    I was interning at a feedlot in Nebraska 9 years ago when I learned a thing or two about a thing or two. I ate the best Mexican of my life, learned how not to fall off a horse, and picked up a few bits of cowboy banter I couldn't bring back home with me. And I learned to love coffee.

    It wasn't a love-at-first-taste relationship for coffee and I.


    It was a way to pass the time while I waited on the cowboys to roll in to work and for the sun to come up. Nebraska summer mornings were chilly, so I didn't mind sipping on a hot beverage first thing.

    ...Even if it was dark roast generic brand coffee that was so strong it tasted a little gritty.

    There was no cream and sugar in sight.

    Cowboys don't fiddle with cream and sugar.

    And once the coffee was down, we saddled up the horses to ride pens (mostly checking on the cattle and separating out any sick cattle that day).

    Thus, Coffee then Cows.

    (Until Cocktails, because after a day with the cowboys....)

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