Sometimes I’m chatting with a person and it comes up that I keep a blog and have kept it, faithfully, for many years.
The person with whom I’m chatting usually says, “Oh, that’s interesting. What’s your blog about?” And that’s when I must go through the pain of telling the truth, which is that “I write a blog about my life.” It’s not that it’s painful (for me) to write a blog about my life; it’s painful to watch the person’s eyes glaze over because the word “blog” is pretty awful and the words “about my life” strike fear in the hearts of men, often for good reason.
So before the glaze sets in, I rush to assure them that PaperGirl:
- is allergic to the overshare
- is sometimes funny, sometimes sad (see: “about my life”)
- is politics-free (unless absolutely necessary)
- is never lengthy for length’s sake
- never concerns itself with, like, what I had for breakfast
That last point mentions breakfast only as an example of something that might be interesting to me but, unless I had a real zinger of a breakfast, probably wouldn’t make for gripping copy. (Note: I have had actual Zingers for breakfast and that would be a great post.) The point is that I try to keep posts out of the realm of the banal unless the banal has become extraordinary.
And this may have happened and it actually pertains, sort of, to breakfast. So here we are.
Readers of this blog know that I have my Earl Grey tea every day. I roll out bed and shuffle to the stove and put the kettle on practically before I open my eyes for Lord’s sake. I use loose tea and steep it in my little red pot and when it’s ready to drink I put in half-and-half and honey and stir it with my spoon and if I am out of honey, I use maple syrup, which I used it in a pinch one time and it was A Very Good Idea and it all goes on my tea tray and I take it to the living room and I read and I drink my tea and then I can face the world. That’s my tea thing and I have been doing it most every day* for 15 years or something unbelievable like that.
A few days ago, though, I purchased a coffee-making machine.
It’s not a coffeepot. It’s not a Keuriggy-schmiggy thing. It’s not one of those fancy glass whatsits all the cool kids — like my brother-in-law — have and wipe with care and take insurance policies out on. No, I got a machine that makes coffee in a particular way that I love.
I got a Senseo coffee machine. Do you know this thing?? Made by Phillips. My Aunt Leesa has one at her house and when I visited her a few years ago — and when I visited her again last spring — I was blown away by the cup of coffee that coffee robot thing made for me. Whenever I think about having a coffee, I think: “Boy, I could really go in for some of that Senseo coffee right about now. Oh, well.”
For one thing, I have my tea thing and it’s part of my soul at this point. Plus, the Senseo robots are expensive already, but then you have to get these old-school pods that only work in that machine — and the Senseo robot doesn’t take any other kind of robot pods. But I had a price-watch thing set for eBay, so I was able to pay what seemed doable, finally, plus I had a credit in my account. So the cost was lowered enough and bam: I did it. My Senseo arrives tomorrow and I can’t wait to have my first cup.
Don’t ask me why I am doing this. There’s nothing wrong with my tea service, per se… except that maybe there is, if I’m looking elsewhere.
I love my little teapot. But maybe it needs a break, just like you and everyone we know.