Blup. Blup. Blup.

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Our coffee maker went to that big kitchen in the sky the other morning. I would have been happier if it waited until after I had my cup to pull the plug but that’s the way it goes. I don’t care what anyone says, instant coffee doesn’t have the same ring to it.

I didn’t grieve over the loss of our coffee maker that much, it was simply the latest in a line of such appliances built with guaranteed obsolescence. If nothing wears out how do you keep the economy ambling along? I guess its parting was sweet sorrow because I never liked it that much, never liked any of them really. No character to them, just machines that made an awful sound when they worked; hard to describe the sound but maybe the breathing of an unseen monster in a darkened room works. To replace this one we went out on a limb and decided to go for a coffee pot.

You need to fuss with a coffee pot a bit more than a coffee maker, getting it ready and all and there’s no auto timer so you need to plug it in. But the sound, Dear Reader, the sound is worth the trouble.

Blup. Blup. Blup. That’s close enough to how it sounds; the rhythm of it increasing gradually as the pot goes about its business.  The liquid inside shoots up into the glass knob on top beginning as the clear water it really is but turning slowly darker as it becomes the magic elixir that helps make the morning a passable experience.

The old coffee maker made way for the new coffee pot and a much more satisfying experience. Some rainy, snowy, windy, chilly, cold mornings it’s the small things that count.