Friday October 15, 2010.
A death has occurred here at Chez Knit.
A cry of agony echoed across the kitchen landscape.
My French Press broke.
I was going about my day. Not hurting anyone. Totally unaware. Secure in my world. Cleaning my kitchen. Emptying my dish washer.
Take French Press out of dish washer. And yes you can put the French Press in the dishwasher, you just need to put it on the upper rack.
Put it on counter.
Hear ominous and tell tale dull “thunk” sound that is characteristic of cracked glass.
What was that? That sounded like something that has a crack in it.
Turn around to look closer at the French Press………
Is that a crack? It can’t be a crack!! It is 5p on a Friday and I can’t go out and get a new French Press before tomorrow morning. In fact, I can’t get out to get a new one until Monday. May be in is just a scratch or something. Yeah. Yeah that’s it. A scratch.
I just stood there for a time. Thinking about the disaster. Wondering how I was going to manage. What could I do? I could go out early on Saturday morning to get coffee at McD’s house. But really, I didn’t want to venture out in the dark much as I love my morning Joe.
So I had to settle for grinding coffee and using the Keurig. It was OK but it wasn’t great and it definitely wasn’t hot enough and there definitely wasn’t enough of it.
But thank goodness I will be able to go out today to get a new one.
Otherwise things might be really bad around here.
Of course I had to memorialize it with a short poem
My French Press it is broken.
My heart is full of woe.
So I've had to find another way.
To make my morning Joe.
The services will be later this week. I will let you know.