We had a death in the family this week. Our coffeemaker died.
If you know me or have read my blog at all you will know that coffee is the fuel that keeps me going, it is my best friend on harsh early mornings, my comfort during times of stress and a life saver to my children on most days. In fact, Dude has a rule - Mom must have two cups of coffee before lunch time because no coffee equals a grouchy mom!
I knew the coffeemaker was in trouble before Christmas but hoped with a week off to rest it would feel better but alas that wasn't the case. On Saturday night before I went to bed I set the coffeemaker up, hoping for the welcoming smell of the freshly brewed goodness in the morning. Instead I awoke to Mischief barging into our room rambling on about 'coffee pee' all over the floor. When I finally stumbled my way down the hall into the kitchen I could barley comprehend the horror before me. The sweet, precious liquid gold was bubbling and pouring out of every conceivable place on the maker.
I spent the rest of the day trying to fix my poor coffee buddy. I tried making coffee again several more times but every pot ended in disaster. I had to accept it, my coffeemaker is dead. I have struggled through the last couple of days with frequent trips to Tim Horton's with several cups of tea in between coffee runs but this morning I think I sunk to an all time low.
In desperation, this morning I dismantled the coffeemaker. I took the piece that holds the filter, loaded it with coffee and poured boiling water into it while I held the steaming contraption over my favourite mug. This is where Mr. Awesome found me when he came home for lunch, huddled over the kitchen sink 'making' coffee. He took one look at the contents of my cup and said it looked like diesel fuel.
Diesel fuel or not, it is mine and it is precious and it is magic. After that first cup I made myself another, got dressed, cleaned the kitchen and am now writing. Coffee is the magic that makes my world go round. Cheers!