Coffee wars



Have I mentioned to you, dear reader, that I am sick of living out of boxes? It’s a quarter past seven in the morning over here in blazing HOT Stockton, CA — It was 104 degrees Sunday, 99 degrees Monday and hallelujah!, a manageable 90 degrees today — and I am surrounded by boxes, boxes and more boxes. I stub my toe on a box as I stumble from the bedroom in the dark to make the missus fresh coffee.

“Can you make me some coffee?” she asks, grinning widely and blinking wildly, dressed in the native costume of her people, a damp bath towel on her head and a terry robe.

“Grrr.” I reply, in full denial of the reality of morning. Somewhere on an island in the Pacific, my native people are fast asleep. It is night there. I sleep for them.

“Pleeeeease.” The grinning and blinking become uncontrollably cheery at this point. “I’ll make you your lunch.”

“But there’s still coffee from last night,” I whine. “Can’t you just drink that?”

She leaves, somewhat deflated but laughing. It is at this point that guilt overtakes me. I try to go back to sleep but I can’t. I get up, stumble to the kitchen and exact my revenge.

“Good Lord! How much coffee did you use?”

“Oh, is it strong?” Heh.

“Don’t act dumb.”

“Well, as you know, I don’t really measure.”

The overpriced coffee maker which I purchased on a recent trip to Costco, where all family budgets go to die, comes with an attractive black, plastic measuring spoon.

One, two three.

“The coffee maker, which you purchased, does come with a spoon.”

Harrumph. Guilty as charged.

Female readers who have already taken sides needn’t worry. The missus exacts her revenge every morning, leaving her half-filled over-sized mug for me to find all over the house. It’s a good thing I didn’t meet her at a party. It would have been an expensive evening, leaving half-finished drinks everywhere.


So, the move. On Thursday, we entered the stage where there was nothing significant to pack except the daily use items that couldn’t be packed until we moved. Do you see conundrum?

We’re now rifling through our boxes to find cuff links, coffee syrup and soap. It’s a sick, sad game of hide and seek, trying to find necessary items to get dressed for church. Worse yet is the dwindling supply of groceries we have because we didn’t want to transport a bunch of items in a cooler.

But we’ve learned a lot. Sunday we learned that confectioner’s sugar is an excellent coffee sweetener. Body wash isn’t just for showering. Pens hide and reproduce in drawers throughout the house. The cap on the pre-wash stain stick likes to hide at the bottom of the laundry hamper, when it’s not diving from shelf above the washer into the pool of suds below.

We pick up our key today but we’re going to wait until Saturday to move. Our friends from church have arranged a moving party, God bless them.

Besides, I’m getting pretty good at digging through boxes for my stuff.


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