There is no finer moment than the first sip of hot coffee in the morning. I awake in my bed already thinking about it and anticipating its warm silky glide down my throat. I steal downstairs (hopefully without either kid in tow) and perform the ritual of making it. I push the button. The light comes on encouragingly. I have to find something to do to entertain myself so I don't pace idly by the machine. Today, I take its picture and anticipate posting this note.
There have been some questions about this picture. This is a picture of the light that goes on when you push the button on my father's coffeemaker. It's a Cuisinart coffeemaker with a lovely carafe that stays warm for a long time after brewing. The irony of this fact is that whoever is the first to get up each day, is forced to "decant" their coffee into a second thermal carafe to free up the machine. I usually get up first (thank you, Liam) and have to empty all my coffee and grounds out for Dad.
If Dad has to do it himself, I get a lot of flack about the amount of grounds I choose to use, how it's ruining the machine, gums up the works and, if I am not careful, we are going to have a major coffee event. Now, the terms "major coffee event" and "minor coffee event" were termed by my father to describe the kerfuffle that ensues when the coffeemaker's pinhole pouring mechanism, or the pot's tiny receptor hole, gets jammed and coffee proceeds to extrude all over the counter and floor. Coffee events can ruin your morning. There is a theory in the family that, like one person's using too much toilet paper might cause the next person's flush to overflow it, my use of coffee grounds is responsible for any and all coffee events from here on out. I guess I will just take that blame and keep on trucking...I like my coffee strong and dark. It needs to be able to wake me up and carry me through the first hour of awakeness.