I know this isn't any kind of earth-shaking revelation, but more and more I get to thinking about how our American society, business, and manufacturing are geared towards "fast" everything. Case in point, the Keurig coffee maker.
I love a good cup of coffee and come from a long line of good coffee makers. In fact, I remember my Dad, a High School football booster back in the day, going to the stadium well in advance of the gates being opened, to pre-measure all the coffee into filters for all the coffee that would be made for the game. His coffee was always so good that nobody else was allowed that "honor". He passed on the good-coffee-making-gene to his kids. I don't think a one of my siblings could make a bad cuppa. My sister and I have both become baristas (without the other even knowing it at the time, as we don't live near each other), and I've trained three of my four children to pull shots on an espresso machine, and they do a darned good job of it.
Anyway, back to the point of the day. I was given my little Keurig machine in a drawing for volunteers at our church. I'd always thought it would be cool to own one, but was never willing to cough up the $100 for the smallest of them, and wham! there it was, a Keurig in my house. I did what Keurig owners do (well, responsible ones at least), and ordered a couple of variety packs from Amazon.com so I could test out what coffee was actually good in a Keurig (by the way, all Keurigs are not created equal. My family has found that the less expensive, more manual version, brews coffee longer, therefore gaining a fuller flavor from the same K-cup.) I landed, eventually, on Caribou Brand Caribou Blend (regular or decaf). I also like Big Easy Bold, and Newman's Own Special Blend bold. I've set up Subscribe and Save orders for the Caribou. If you have the bigger, faster, brewing Keurig, you'll have to test your own coffees. We ran the Caribou in Courtney's larger, faster machine and the beautiful, full flavor I know and love becomes the most awful coffee-flavored watery swill you could imagine. Just sayin.
So, I've been living happily with my little Keurig for almost two years. I understand the longevity of my small Keurig is exceptional, and I should consider myself blessed by its lasting lifespan. I do. Lately, I've noticed that I've had to buy my K-cups more frequently and thought it was because the guys in Roy's Connect group (meets at our house every Wednesday evening) were enjoying our coffee. So, in order to save a little money, I purchased, for $10, a lightly used coffee maker on a local Craigslist type list on FB. I had bags of specialty roasted and blended coffee keeping in my cabinets and refrigerator and made them a lovely pot the next Wednesday evening. One guy had coffee! What?!? Well, come to find out, Roy was the one upping his coffee intake. He'd simply begun to enjoy it and so, we were going through K-cups more frequently. LOL.
This week my son has come to visit, as has his girlfriend and her sister. I've loved having a houseful of people and realized it was just going to make sense to make pots of coffee instead of K-cup after K-cup. I brewed up some lovely Cape D Blend from the Long Beach Coffee Roasters and we enjoyed lovely cups of goodness that day, and every day this week. And that's when it hit me, with the onset of convenience (the Keurig), we've cut away a beautiful part of our lives...sitting down to not just a cup of coffee, but a cup and a half or two, something to luxuriate over, something to laugh and cry over, something to bring warmth and soothing. Something to cause one to SIT and share and rest and listen and love and....you get the point.
A pot of coffee has become a luxury all of a sudden in my life. It makes me think of other pots I've enjoyed in life, with my Mom and Dad. They traveled all over and occasionally, out of the blue, Dad would call and say, "We're an hour out. Put on the coffee!" I'm so glad to have enjoyed those pots with him. There was the pot that introduced me to the beautiful dark brew, the morning pot at the Zimmermann house in Trier, Germany where I was a 17-year old exchange student. There was the pot (or three) consumed almost a year later in Sweden with relatives I never knew if I'd get to meet and see again in my life. Pots of coffee...so beautiful.
Okay, so the Keurig. I'm not getting rid of it. I have those days, as do you, we're the only one home, we need to leave soon, and what happens? In three minutes we have a cup of good gloriousness. So, I sing these praises to both the pot and the cup, but encourage you and challenge you to remember to sit, take a load off, talk to a friend, luxuriate, enjoy life, and thank God for sharing His nectar and then pouring, just one more cup. :D
