Sunday, February 4, 2024

Confluence of Handles, part 2

     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.

 c 2024, PL dba lovepat press, Benton AR USA




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