Sunday, March 25, 2012


Every morning I fill a kettle with water and put it on the stove to heat for our morning coffee.  I used to have a little Mr. Coffee Junior, one of the four cup drip coffee makers.  I bought it in 1986 for my second year of college in the dorms.  I broke a couple glass pots along the way, but that little coffee maker provided my morning wake-up for almost 25 years.  Many years of college, moves to South Dakota, Michigan, Connecticut, Virginia, Washington, California, and Maine, with lots of stops back in Minnesota between and never so much as a hic-up in it's duties.  Not a bad track record for a cheap kitchen appliance.
Our current method of coffee making involves a Melita filter, one of those cone shaped plastic filter holders.  I started using a Melita years ago when backpacking and camping.  Now, each morning as I'm pouring water through the filter I am reminded of those mornings spent in beautiful places, many times huddled around a campground picnic table, trying to stay warm until the water is warm enough to use.  Moab, Utah; City of Rocks, Idaho; The Black Hills, South Dakota; the Wind River Range, Wyoming; wonderful memories made with good friends, a big thank you to everyone that shared those trips for being there to make those memories and share a cup of coffee.
Back to current times, once the coffee has brewed, I drink from a ceramic mug that came from the Center for Maine Contemporary Art.  The mug used to belong to my father, was given to him by my aunt, and serves as a daily reminder of family.  Sometimes the pain of loss overpowers the good memories, but either way it adds to the emotional aspect of the morning.  All this nostalgia has a way of getting my brain working in the morning, jump-starting the process that will continue with the help of the caffeine in the coffee.
This trip down memory lane is an almost daily occurrence for me, but particularly came to mind after running out of coffee this past week.  We have become somewhat picky in our coffee preferences, favoring a particular Kona blend not available in Sitka.  Luckily, a friend was on his way to Sitka on the ferry, having purchased five pounds of our favorite blend before leaving Seattle, so we only had to suffer for one day.

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