My birthday is tomorrow I will be 60. This stretches my credulity. And yet….of course I am 60.
Today I will make myself a coconut cake, trying to recreate my granny’s coconut cake. Or I will make MAGIC bars and shoot for very-low sugar can she do it?
I have begun pulmonary rehab and I’m having so much fun exercising. I get tons of attention and as far as I can tell I am never really short of breath so I don’t know what this asthma diagnosis is all about. However I think I do get short of breath here at home sometimes, but I think it’s because I don’t breathe when I’m stressing. Not really sure about that…I have to call the doctor today and tell them that all of the inhalers that they have prescribed for me make me worse, or rather give me asthma symptoms that I don’t have. But suffice it to say I think that she wanted to do me a big favor, she being Dr Gross, and she sent me to rehab because she thought it would do me a world of good and she is so correct about that.
I want to say something about my new Coffee Percolator–it is as if I have gone back in time. I love the coffee–it is strong and smooth, almost silky (oily in a good way). I’m back at my granny’s house, back in the old white house, black coffee dregs in the cups, back at churches and funeral homes with the enormous percolators sitting out on white-clothed tables. That taste. It’s wistful. It’s yesteryears.
Percolator coffee is not filtered. If you have a stovetop version, it would be easy to overdo it and end up with a scorched taste (I know this from using my Moka pot), but with the auto perk there is no issue with this.
I am back to drinking my coffee black, which is such a joy. I’ve been using milk and or cream and or soy creamer and or half/half and or whatever I’ve even tried dried milk, chasing that perfect cup of coffee. For years. I am done.
This is my second percolator within the month. The first one leaked and because I had cleaned it with vinegar and actually boiled the vinegar which I found that it says not to do in the directions, I’m not going to send it back.
I had decided that it was too tall and heavy to lift when my wrists are having trouble which is more and more frequent. It was a 12 cup coffee maker, now I have a 10 cup coffee maker that is squatty and easier to lift. It also has an on-off button. The only drawback is that it is not as hot as the coffee from the first one which was an Elite Gourmet.
This is the Mixpresso–
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07J9ZS2PY?ref=ppx_yo2ov_dt_b_fed_asin_title&th=1
I also bought a Ninja 1-Cup Coffee Maker which uses either grounds or K-Cups. I will keep a few K-Cups on hand for guests or treats. (the milk frother on this is stupid, but folds out of the way so you never see it)
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0C25Y15TL?ref=ppx_yo2ov_dt_b_fed_asin_title&th=1
Oh the wonder the magic the please-say-it-again fantastic-ness of living, of being fortunate enough (and so unlucky enough) to be conscious. To be awake. To just keep waking up, which is the main stuff of life–we just keep waking up and the world is still here.
My 60th year unto heaven. And the world has not stopped its spinning. The heavens sent us rain last night at long last. It is very November outside overcast a bit dreary. There was a good wind yesterday and I was out in it. I wish it would storm like the storms from my childhood–fast. Angry. Over-in-a-flash. And I would run out to the field and splash in the puddles.
Oh for the puddle luscious world oh for the girl running with her posse of dogs which way the wind coming which way time flowing which way and how to start it all again?
love and love and loving,
~r.
