I need my frech press back. No need for the plug-me-in cuisinart coffee maker that grinds beans loudly before dripping water over them. It took me 20 minutes this morning to figure out what the damn beep-beep-beep sound was for. By that time, I had foregone coffee while making eggs and quesadillas for breakfast. Midway through my second (mini-) tortilla, i noticed a part of the contraption sitting next to the sink that was causing the electric feedback. Once that was in, coffee making, the electric kind, was back on track.
I look forward to the days of grinding beans by hand, boiling water (either stovetop, or I’m ready for an electric kettle), and the satisfaction of pouring near boiling water over the ground beans.
As wikipedia states, “A French press … is a simple coffee brewing device.”
Yes, bring back the simplicity of this delectable morning routine.
Mariana once said that ‘stepping in dog shit is a bigger deal for you than me.’
Last night proved that right. Worst thing of all, i was scrambling to catch the bus. I had looked the time up, kudos to the new app of onebusaway.com but low and behold, there i was so quick to get on that i didn’t notice the soft squish to my shoe sole until I was forty feet back in the double-deep accordion style bus. And the coffee ice cream colored loam on my shoe from then on reached my nostrils. Fortunately, it was a sparse ridership at 6pm on a Friday night. Try as I may, I tracked that dookie far too long, and too far.
Dogshit. It’s up there with whining, arrogance and stepping in puddles with socks on. Those, are my top four pet peeves. (or at least, what i can remember this morning)
Moral of the story: get to the bus stop early enough to not have to scramble.
Breakfast was English muffin with peanut butter and honey.
Kimchi and rice for lunch. Kudos to umajimaya at 7 am while on a conference call.
Made for a multiculti set of meals. If only I could end the day with pork ribs, enchiladas, or some of dad’s stuffed burgers.
Funny when I sat on the toilet in the men’s room. I felt the toilet move underneath me. No, it wasn’t the fault lines shifting. Just someone doing their own business in the Women’s WC.
Made we wonder what connects our seats? If it’s pipes, should they jiggle that much in the wall?