For those following the coffee saga and the tragedy of a dead coffee maker, I can happily say, the sun is shining again. Actually, it is a bright sunny day here–the kind of day that makes it easier to stimulate the creative juices. It’s cold outside, like the Januarys of old, but we dodged a the snowstorm that paralyzed life south of Central Pennsylvania. Normally, we’re the ones who get hit hard, while the streets of D.C. get a dusting or just wet. Yesterday, they received a snowshoe-and-sled-dogs foot or more.
Anyway, after spending hours in dismay reading the bad reviews of coffee makers, I finally settled on the least-trolled brewer. I settled on a Black and Decker programmable caffeine factory. Mr. Coffee, either you have a lot of enemies out there planting fake reviews, or you have really dropped the beans on quality control. Sadly, it’s probably the latter. The obsolescence built into our modern life is appalling.
But I’m beaned up and ready to go. The coffee is flowing freely again and I can sip hot coffee again as my mind attempts to compose the next coherent sentence. Completed manuscripts, both short-stories and a novel are already out in the world being evaluated by editors. I feel optimistic that at least one, if not all works, will find its way into release this year. Today, I return to editing a coming-of-age novel, the first of three books.
If a coffee maker quits or I get an occasional rejection for a literary submission, I can’t really complain. Today, I know of friends suffering through possible terminal illness and remember friends lost in 2021. My prayers are with their families. I ask for yours. Loss is a fact of life in the back my mind when I write–the price of love is grief. Eventually, we lose the ones we love most dearly. But most of us, I believe, are willing to pay that price, because a life without love is an empty existence. The joyful moments of our lives makes living worth any pain we must endure. The Beatles were right–“All you need is love.”
Have a great week, my friends.