I’ve always been a gizmo/gadget kinda gal. I’m not ashamed to admit I like them; and am always willing to make room for another one. I’m not necessarily the
first in line to buy the ‘newest’ thingamabob on the market, but it’s pretty damn close.
So it’s been sort of surprising, to all who know me, that I’ve been so resistant to buying one of those one-cup coffee makers. You know the ones I mean. You fill the cylinder (or whatever it’s called) with water whenever it’s empty, insert one of those already-filled-with-pre-measured-coffee doodahs in the appropriate place and presto — a steaming, freshly-brewed cup of your favourite java in mere seconds.
It’s not like I don’t know they exist. All my friends have them. And years ago, when there was only one kind on the market — at least here in Canada — an early-adopter business partner of mine bought one and raved about it. Like me, she’s single and loved the fact she could have a cup of coffee without having to make a pot — the balance of which usually gets tossed down the sink. And there’s no muss, no fuss. No filters to throw away, no coffee grinds all over the sink, nothing to wash out when you’re done, except your cup.
She couldn’t convince me.
Neither could anyone else, even when they demonstrated and served me the most delicious little cup of espresso, Continue reading →
isn’t a post about men and women. Or sex. It’s about temptation. Well, not really, but sort of. Or resisting temptation. Sort of, but not really.
365 And Counting 