On the same day (the day I’m writing this as I doze off in my office at home, barely able to keep my eyes open), both my coffee grinder and my kettle briefly met their end. I was able to get my coffee grinder working again by slapping it, but the fact that it failed three times in the few seconds I used it this morning means that I’m on the hunt for a new one [and have already picked one, by the time you’re reading this]. Then, later that evening, I went to de-scale my stovetop kettle and the handle broke right off. There didn’t appear to be much holding it on, in the first place, so I’m kind of surprised it lasted almost a decade. I was able to get it in usable condition, but I’ll need to be very careful with it since the handle is only holding on to one side now, and that’s the side that allows you to detach it from the metal for the purpose of cleaning the spout. I can’t help but imagine myself dropping it or having the kettle, full of boiling water, slip off the handle somehow while I’m moving it from the stove to where my French press is set up. It’s nightmarish, which means I’ll be ordering a new one tomorrow, no matter what. I don’t want to have to use this disaster waiting to happen any longer than I absolutely must in order to get the caffeine I require to survive each and every day right now. All in all, it has not been a great time for my ability to make my daily coffee and quart of iced tea (I got a PERFECT mason jar for the iced tea and the self-sealing nature of it means that loading it up with ice to chill out seals it perfectly for the trip from my apartment to my workplace) and I’m looking to improve my setup now that the appliances I’ve been using have both broken.
Continue readingCoffee
A Moment of Imperfection
The early dawn light,
Too strong and eager to ignore
Even under the cover of sleep
That calls to me like a languid lover
Not ready to release me
From my place by their side,
Breaks apart the restless peace
Of a night I hardly marked
As I tumble from my bed
In an admission of defeat
And slowly begin a sour morning
I had hoped would instead be sweet.
An Essay About A Poem About Sun and Coffee
I’ve had this idea for a poem I want to write for months now. I want to capture the simple peace and joy of sipping coffee on my porch as early morning sunlight beams down on me. Since I have no deadlines and I want to savor the moment before I capture it, I’ve been waiting for my next chance to do that. Unfortunately, due to various complications, I haven’t actually had such a morning in a long while.
Continue readingMorning Coffee
Harris woke to the scent of frying bacon, birdsong, and early-morning sunlight. He blinked his eyes, trying to adjust to the light from the window Linda had thrown open.
“C’mon, get up!”
Harris pulled the blankets over his head. Linda sat down on the bed, pulled the blanket back, and gave him a kiss on the nose. “If you wait too long, breakfast is going to get cold!”
Harris smiled as Linda pulled the sheet back, putting up only a token resistance as she hauled him out of bed. “Alright, alright.” Harris pushed himself to his feet and hugged his wife. “You win.” After putting on his bathrobe and new slippers, he followed his wife’s singing down the stairs to the kitchen. He watched as she flipped pancakes for a moment and then started making coffee. Five minutes later, they were eating.
“I’ve got a few errands to run, Harris, but I’ll be back shortly after one.”
“Alright. I’m going to work on getting our taxes filed after I clean up here. Should be done before you’re back.” He smiled at Linda.
He lifted his mug to take a sip, but the handle slipped in his hands and hot coffee poured into his lap. Even as he leapt out of the chair, part of his brain pulled at him and, instead of a coffee stain on his robe, he was looking at his bedroom.
The shades were drawn and the window was closed. The air smelled faintly of sweat. He looked around his room and tried to see it as he had when he was still asleep. He tried to remember his wife as she had looked that morning, but all he could remember was how her face had looked when she handed him the divorce papers later that day.