For the summer, it’s set to 7:15AM though I know I won’t drag my warm body out of the soft pastel blue blanket we got as a wedding present until 8:00AM. The tart swirl of the organic French roast coffee from Trader Joe’s finds me and wills I make myself presentable for the day. After I look decent enough to avoid people asking if I’m sick or tired, as many have asked if I forget to put on my face, or when I was bald, I check on my slumbering son and saunter toward the machine.
As I fill my porcelain maroon mug, clinking the rim with the glass carafe, my gaze wanders to our Keurig machine. She must wonder why I have neglected placing plastic cups in her bay and brewing a single 8 ounce cup. I walk past her convenience and continue the day.
I admit – I loved the convenience of the Keurig. I loved how I could choose any k-cup to brew without giving thought to anyone else. There was more choice and little consequence to my 8 ounce cup of Joe. I had no one else to consider, but in many ways the singular cup was very lonely and manufactured. There is something lost.
A full carafe in the traditional coffee maker, however, is communal. I consider how much to make for myself and others. In today’s microwave minded drudgery, grinding the beans at the store and dripping hot water through the hand placed filter requires me to stop.
Many would say they simply do not have time to do it. Wrong. We all have the same amount of time during the day, but we choose to use it differently. We make time for the things important to us. Choosing to brew coffee in a glass twelve cup pot, for me, is an exercise in being other-minded and enjoying the process.