When I was younger, I went to church. More specifically I went to a nice Lutheran church. And as a Lutheran, we did a couple of things really well; singing every verse of every hymn in four part harmony** and coffee hour.
After all that singing you need something to wet your whistle and keep you jazzed up for Sunday School.
Anyway, the only way to make enough coffee to keep a group of Lutherans happy is with one of those big forty cup percolators. You fill it with water, add as much coffee as the little old ladies tell you to, set up all the filters properly and plug it in. At first nothing happens. It just sits there warming up, but eventually you see a little pop of lightly brownish water hit the small clear dome on top of the pot. Now things are working, something is happening, and it only gets better from there. Soon that one little pop is a whole series of ever darkening pops turning plain old water into the lifeblood of any good Lutheran, coffee.
I’ve seen percolators at my grandmother’s, my mom’s and over my campfire. Every time, I still look forward to the anticipation of that first pop of coffee.
With that said, here’s a few pops to let you see what’s percolating in my head. This would be easier if I had a little clear dome on top of my head wouldn’t it?
Iowa Gurls, Prairie burning, Stress related diseases, Taco Tuesdays and Free Slice Wednesdays, Spectatorship, Surgery, Other people’s super cute children, Summer storms, and much, much more.
In short, you’ll hear a lot more from me in the coming days. Hopefully I’ll even be able to tell you why I’ve been away for so long.
walk in beauty,
*As a person of Finnish descent and a trained Barista, I have understandably conflicting views on the “proper” way to make coffee. In this as many parts of my life, I rely on my gut to get me through. Either way, commit and go all the way. There is no room for putting too little coffee in the percolator or for smacking your portafilter with the face of your tamper.
**From the green hymnal for those of you who might wonder.