My husband thinks it’s gross. (Now you can be shocked.) He doesn’t even like the smell of it.
It’s funny to me, having grown up in a house of non-coffee-drinkers that I would be so delighted by it. The smell of the beans, the sound of it brewing. It makes me smile before I’ve even had a sip. What first drew me to the bold, potent concoction?
Maybe it reminds me of my grandparents, the first coffee-drinkers in my life. (more…)
Now, you may read that statement and hear excitement. It’s a logical conclusion. I love coffee.
The thing is, this is no ordinary coffeemaker. It’s more like a coffee machine. Single-cup brewing. When the screen flashes full sentences at you, it ceases to be an ordinary coffeemaker. And when it comes to me and technology, well . . .
I decided to do something smart. I asked for help. From a super sweet receptionist. It’s funny how putting on a suit and a cute pair of heels can make me bolder. Somehow I wasn’t afraid of looking like an idiot. Somehow I was okay with admitting my fear of breaking the beast of a coffee machine.
She showed me how to use it. And success. For three days, I made two cups a day without incident.
There’s a magical moment toward the beginning of my day. It’s my first sip of freshly-ground, freshly-brewed coffee – a delightful blend of Sumatra Iskandar and Decaf Ethiopian with a splash of fabulous creamer (like International Delight’s Almond Joy. So good.). It’s that moment one second after I wonder if I’ve got the right balance of strength and creamer.
There are moments of our lives like that too, when we’re dancing on the edge of something incredible. We hesitate, two seconds away from venturing into it, delicious anticipation dancing on our tongues. (more…)