After entering the kitchen, still in my robe and yawning for the umpteenth time, I switch on the overhead light, the warmer light, and the Keurig power button.
Raising the lid of the pod holder and the lid of the water well, I hand-dig around in the basket until grasping a light-roast Breakfast Blend pod. I pull it out, insert it in the round hole and lower the handle, which pokes holes for the brewing to happen.
Now for water
to replenish the tank. I pull the pitcher through the confluence of handles and
stop. I always smile at the unusual scene––brown, pink, and green, one facing
in, one facing out, and the brown one facing me in the center. Once, I took a
photo of the three handles—a still life, it you will.
You wonder
why I detail this image that’s important enough to use as the title? Perhaps
it’s the artist part of my creativity; the flower-arranging skill I learned
from being in the garden club, or the formality of a musical chord, a triad of
sorts.
I fill the
pitcher from the tap at the sinks, pour the water into the narrow-ish aperture
of the well-cum-tank, scoot the pitcher back to its nest and replace the lid of
the well.
Ready to
brew! When the pod lid is down, three blue lights come on: Small, medium and
large mugs show under those lights. I press the “large” button. The machine
roars on, and while the coffee drips, I reach for the teaspoon and three
packets of sweetener. After I thump the contents to the bottoms of the packets,
I access the scissors, snip off the tops, pour them into the teapot.
As the cycle
finishes, I grasp the FRIENDS mug handle, turn it around, and with my left
hand, pour the dark liquid into the pot. I replace the mug, stir the sweetener
into the coffee, replacing the spoon and the teapot lid.
But this
isn’t all. No, the coffee’s still too strong for my taste so I raise and lower
the pod lid and the lights return. Again, I press “large.” This time while the
cup is filling, I might water the windowsill plants, load, or unload the
dishwasher. Or grab a parched peanut or two from the pan on the stove.
When the
Keurig becomes silent, return to the counter, lift the teapot lid, then the
catch-mug, pour the second offering into the teapot, replace the lid and the
mug. Repeat this step, but this time, press “medium.” While this last cycle
brews, I check the cat food and water, refilling if necessary.
With the
third and final offering from the tiny pod of coffee, press the power button
off, add the pale fluid to the pot, replace the lid.
I select a
mug to use all morning, perhaps one of Mom’s, perhaps one from Florida or a
glass one, and pour the hot, sweet stuff into it. Ah! Perfect! I move to the
table and continue my day with the morning paper.
What could be
more satisfying? Fresh brews and fresh news. And it added only one plastic pod
to a landfill instead of three.
No comments:
Post a Comment