Coffee. First thing in the morning. A welcome wake-up call, a jolt to my senses as I shake off the evening’s slumber.
Unless. Unless the coffee is cold as it has been the past two days. The night before, after I heated up some tea, the microwave blew a fuse. It refused all efforts to resuscitate it.
Today, at last, a fresh-brewed batch of coffee. Thanks to my hubby, Dave.
As I savor the rich, dark roast, I ponder how often I’ve taken this moment for granted. Like many small, good things, it just always