Let's face it, I have little to no self-control. I'd planned on waiting for a visit from Pete to try out the new coffeemaker, but there I was yesterday, cleaning up in the kitchen and thinking housewifely thoughts. The coffeemaker was sitting in its unopened box in the round room. "Hmmm, maybe I should just make sure all the parts are there." They were. "Maybe I should give it a trial run just to make sure everything works." Uh huh. The first thing I do with any new equipment is sit down and read the instruction manual cover to cover. It's a coffeemaker, how hard can it be? 1. Set the clock. Just one button to push and if you miss the a.m. or p.m. or go past the desired hour by even one minute, you push the button through another 24-hour cycle. It only took me about seventeen tries. 2. Pour in fresh water. I did, and immediately flooded the countertop. I'd missed the reservoir. (In my defense, the machine is black and the light was dim. It's my story.) After using up a week's worth of cuss words and mopping up the mess, I persevered and got the darned thing working. Like John Dear, we're going to have a period of adjustment here. I did get a kick out of the Troubleshooting section of the manual. Can you imagine the irate call to tech services that required this addition?
Problem: the coffeemaker only brews water.
Probable Cause: there are no coffee grounds in the filter basket.
Solution: add the desired amount of coffee to the filter.
At any rate, I was glad I'd given it a trial run by myself. Public humiliation is not my thing.
The rest of the day was spent in nirvana. The Kids had gifted me with another certificate for massage and I took advantage of a visit in the afternoon. To me, that's the height of luxury. I had to stop for gas and put in an order for alfalfa on the way home. I was so relaxed it was hard to hold the pen to write a check.
All's well that ends well.