In Anticipation of a Morning Cup of Coffee
I’ve lots to do today, but my mind wants a vacation. At my insistence, I convince it that we will be productive. Coffee helps. So, I’m off to the kitchen to brew an enlivening cup of java, made with freshly ground beans from our neighborhood coffee shop. Ahhhhh – the anticipation – to sit in the living room, sipping a cup while I organize my day.
Making a cup of coffee in my world includes adding hot cashew milk, so I pour some into a saucepan and head for our gas stove. Eeeeeeew! It’s accumulated too many spatters, spills and boil-overs. Of course, we wiped them up. Sort of, with a well-used washrag. I can’t bring myself to turn on even one burner – one more time – without cleaning the stove top.
Our cleansers are stored under our kitchen sink in a plastic box jammed with containers. There’s polish for silverware we no longer have, something for wine spills (no surprise there), plant food, plant root stimulator, a jar stuffed with assorted scrub brushes, a sponge for floor spills, a sponge for super dirty pots and pans, a spray to remove spots on clothing, and nothing to clean a stove. Well, there is scouring powder, but I decide to spray the fabric cleaner on the stove first and let it soak. It’s how I discover new cleaning solutions.
Sprayed it. Nothing happened. It’s back to scouring powder and elbow grease. As I scrub, my mind constantly reminds me to anticipate that cup of coffee. Oh, did I mention I just painted my nails last night, and I don’t have rubber gloves? Okay, so let’s get on with this. I’ll just clean around burners and do the grates another time. Maybe not – I can’t bring myself to put disgusting grates back onto a cleaned stove. So, I clean the grates, too. Now my polish is destroyed, and my hands feel like tree bark.
Now, what did I come to the kitchen to do? Oh, yeah, make a cup of coffee. Guess I don’t need it anymore to wake me up; I’m already well into the day. It’s only 10 AM and I’ve already cleaned the kitchen stove, which has been on my list for weeks. Now I need to reward myself. So, I heat up cashew milk on a clean stove, add it to steaming hot coffee, sprinkle in a little sugar, and head for the living room. I’ll still have that cup of coffee and sit to sip, congratulating myself on how productive I’ve been.
Maybe not yet. First, I need to write this blog.
