The Morning Curse

If I’ve been remiss in writing, you can blame our coffee pot.  Months ago when we were provisioning The Rig, we went to Cabela’s, the store known for its vast supplies of camping, hunting, and fishing gear.  This was my first experience in a Cabela’s and I was not disappointed in the quantities though I later learned we had gone to the “small” outpost.  Nevertheless, in my excitement to buy lots of stuff, I zeroed in a classic looking coffee pot which seemed just large enough for a few cups of coffee or could be used to just boil some water. The real selling point, however, was that it said “Cabela’s” on the exterior.  Also, since it was the floor model, we could get a discount (bonus!).  We were so exited to brew our first batch of coffee on our shakedown overnighter. John and I each enjoyed our first cup of some strong brew, but things broke down after that. Our second cup contained some grounds and by the time we tried for a third, partial cup, we were left with dark, gritty sludge. This coffee pot works like percolator where hot water boils up through a small tube and runs back down through the grounds. Apparently our Peet’s Major Dickason’s and anything Starbucks isn’t made for the the Cabela’s perk. We are too stubborn and loyal to try other brands such a Folgers which might have larger grounds, so we basically just suffer and complain. But, the real reason I hate our pot is the amount of time it takes to wash the dang thing.  Equipped with a million parts, this one appliance creates the most mess and uses the most water.  From my sailing past, it was ingrained in me not to use too much water when washing dishes,  so even though we have full access to water, I’m still stingy on the water when washing. When I’ve had additional support on board, I swear silently as I dump messy grounds in the trash, but if I’m alone, I curse openly with words not fit for print with each piece I wash.  Don’t tell John, but sometimes I just give it a rinse and call it good.  So, there you have it; I have not been writing about the small towns, forests, fields, and general sights because I’m too busy washing the damn coffee pot!

One thought on “The Morning Curse

  1. I grew up with a percolator and I can tell you that my parents never washed it – they just dumped and rinsed. And that is what I did too! And back then we dumped all those grounds down the disposal! Now I know better.

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