I should blame NPR

I was jamming in my kitchen again this morning and I made a pot of coffee because, well, if I don't have my coffee by 9:00 all bets are on that I'll morph into a raging bitch within milliseconds. Swear to God. Caffeine deprivation has that effect on me.

So you know how it is, you've got one ear listening for children waking and the other on NPR's Morning Edition. You measure out the scoops--1,2,3,4,5 and fill to the water line--Good morning, Mr. G. What do you want for breakfast? Sure... pour the cereal and milk, wash the jars for the jam, toss out a few remaining of moldy bread and finish patting the raspberries dry. Measure the sugar--need more sugar. Find the extra bag of sugar in the pantry and pour it in--2 cups--need to add 3 1/4 more. Stir. Good morning, Mr. D. Stir. Stir. Stir. Pour another cup of milk for Mr. B.

Dump the Sure Gel into the pan and measure 3/4 cups of water. Stir and marvel at the people off the coast of Britain who began a literary society to fool the Nazi's during WWII. Add the book to your list of future reads. You need a cup of coffee and head over to the coffeemaker. Huh. The coffee level is at 8 cups but you are certain you added 5 scoops of coffee and while you don't mind strong coffee, Mr. D waters his down so you add a couple cups of water and let it percolate. Come to think of it, you know you only put in 8 cups of water. Note to self: make the same amount of coffee every day so you don't have any more confusion in your life.

Boil the pectin, stir stir stir. Interesting story about how the dude in Maryland is doing a walkthrough to reduce his energy consumption by 15%. Later you should check the basement and make sure that power strip is switched off. Pour the boiling froth into the sugared raspberries. Stirstirstirstirstir. Transfer jam into jars and cap with clean lids. Turn to pour Mr. D a cup of coffee and bring it back to him, surely he's in the bathroom finishing his shower by now. Walking back you discover he's sprawled across the bed. I brought you some coffee. You place it on the nightstand beside him. I already got a cup--it's in the bathroom. So you did put in 10 cups of water and now your morning coffee is all watered down.

Drat. Dagnabbit. Darn it all.

Return to the kitchen and sample your weak-ass cup of coffee. Your Secret True Love and Soul Mate Garrison Keillor is wrapping up The Writer's Almanac with "The Snowy Day" by Elizabeth Spires.

The last time I saw you, we met for coffee on a snowy day.

Posted in: Housekeeping