Sunday Morning Excitement

I have a love for coffee that has grown since I was the tender age of 6 and sipping out of a styrofoam cup given to me by my father (per my request) after church one day. I have the distinct memory of the taste of that coffee. Somehow, even at six, I paralleled the experience with drinking Castrol 10w50.

Since then my taste buds have changed either due to actual development for the taste or because my body has developed an addiction. Either way, I woke up this morning with an excited enthusiastic drive to grind the whole Kenyan coffee beans, put them in the French press, and then experience the satisfaction of pouring hot water over the granules and adding my own vanilla flavoring to signify my disentanglement from the local coffee dealers.

"$3.50 a pop for a vanilla latte no more!" I thought as I put the tea kettle on the back burner and turned the knob to 'H' for high. In the process I moved a blue plastic ice tray from the burner where the tea kettle now sat to the one next door, and satisfied that I had saved the tray, I sat down to instant message duff while she dj-d from the other side of the continent.

It was long before I heard the pleasant burbling of water which spurred a quiet and happy anticipation..."Aw... soon I will have coffee..." but soon this was replaced with... "There is no steam emanating from the tea pot.." and I went to the stove to find this:



As you can see... it was melting and bubbling and began to smoke and spew. My sister jumped up, while I stood there saying, "Oh Crap! Oh Crap!" and immediately grabbed a spatula and scooped the pieces off the stove and into the sink before running to the fire alarm and unplugging it.

I began to strategically place fans throughout the apartment, open all the windows, and laugh uncontrollably. Beth was laughing too. We eventually did get our cups of vanilla flavored freshly ground and French-pressed coffee with cream... sadly, one ice cube tray had to die for the cause.