coffee


Mr Izz finished his finals today…which means only 5 months until he is DONE, and only a year and a half until we are in Ireland!!! Anyway. Where was I? Oh, right, finals. He’s done, which is a grand thing. I went and picked him up after his last one, and since he didn’t have coffee before he left this morning, he decided to stop at a coffee shop on the way home. Of course I was thrilled. I mean, I love coffee, and this particular coffee shop has the added attraction of boasting a large assortment of used books for sale as well. And I mean it when I say large assortment; they have cookbooks, trashy romance novels, classics, kids’ books…you name it, they have it or something similar to it. But even with all of these lovely categories to choose from, there is one category I migrate to more than any other (after the trashy romance novels, of course)…the Poetry Section. Whenever I am in the coffee shop, it is an absolute necessity to see if there might be anything new and exciting in the poetry section. But I don’t run over to it immediately…I try to be coy and nonchalant about the whole thing. There is no need to let on how much I adore books of poetry. I’m certain Mr Izz has no idea of how much I really do adore them, based on my nonchalance. I am very good at it…I think.

I get my coffee and sit down to hear all about Mr Izz’s finals, my coffee cup firmly grasped in both hands to warm up my fingers. I peer at him over the rim of my cup as I take a sip, as he goes on about how he should have done better on such and such an exam, trying hard to focus on what he is saying. It doesn’t take long, however, until my eyes wander over toward the poetry books…I wonder if there is anything new? I haven’t been in here for a while…is someone talking to me? “IZZ! Do you want another cup of coffee?” he asked me quite loudly. “Oh! Yes, I do. Sorry, I have a lot on my mind.” I reply. Mr Izz rolls his eyes and walks off. Now, why on earth did he roll his eyes like that? What a dork.

As he gets our coffee, my eyes wander back to the poetry section. It looks like there is a red book I don’t remember seeing the last time I was in. My interest is piqued by this time. I am half aware of my coffee placed in front of me, and Mr Izz sitting back down. Finally, he says “Will you just go over there and look at the damn poetry books? It would be nice to have you even somewhat interested in talking to me and you won’t be until you check them out.” I just stare at him for a minute. I have no idea where that came from…geeze. But, what the heck…I smile, jump up, say “I’ll be just a minute!:, and bound off to take a looksy. I think Mr Izz uttered “Be right back, yeah, right” but I’m not sure. By that time I was already at the poetry section. But he would have said it…he’s rude like that.

So, the poetry books are wonderful as always, but I have to see what that red book was. I find it quickly, pull it out, and…..oh my! It’s a book of selected poems and two plays by William Butler Yeats. Of course, I have to buy it. That’s a no brainer.

I skip back to the table in a jovial mood, take a sip of my coffee, and say: “See? I was only a minute. And by the way, I’m buying this book.”

“Another poetry book? Don’t you have enough of those?” Then he looks at the book itself. “I know you have at least one Yeats book! You don’t need another one! You’re starting to remind me of the Mel Gibson character in Conspiracy Theory!”

“I do not! You’re just being totally rude” I retort. I then spin on my heel and march up to the register to buy the book…making sure to throw a death glare his way as I walk. I swear, he’s nuts. I don’t have that many poetry books, and surely not tons of Yeats. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

We finish our coffee, then drive home, Mr Izz rambling on about his exams. And he says I’m obsessed. I walk into the house, give hugs and kisses hello to various Izzlets, and then proceed to put my new book with the other poetry books. Right next to my other books of Yeats’ poetry. Hmmmmm……SIGH! Oh well. I’m not saying a word to Mr Izz about this.

are meant to be roasted before grinding up and brewing. Just thought I should put that out there, in case any of you happen upon some green coffee beans, buy them, bring them home, clean out your coffee pot in anticipation of brewing (which is highly recommended, by the way, if your coffee pot takes over an hour to brew…yes, I know this from experience), grind the lovely looking green beans in your regular electric grinder, only to find that they won’t grind up in that thing and when you try the grinder makes an unearthly noise that almost bursts your eardrums, put them into the hand grinder and grind them for what seems like an hour because for some reason they seem to be made of granite or something and won’t grind, put them into the filter, then start brewing…only to find a pot full of greenish liquid that tastes interestingly similar to asparagus, and is generally vile and not fit to drink. Another important thing to remember is that before jumping into a new coffee adventure…especially when you’re running on very little sleep and attempting to stay away at least long enough to get the children into bed…you should know all the facts before you jump. Because if you don’t, you may have to reap what you sow…or in this case, drink what you have brewed. Either way you’re left with an entire pot of icky green goo that even your worst enemy shouldn’t be forced to drink. Yes, I am very sad right now. It’s a good thing that I cleaned my coffee pot, because now I have get out the good old “Witches Brew” from Jim’s Coffee (great stuff by the way…and it comes already roasted!) and make a fresh pot. It should be done in record time, at least in comparison to yesterday when it took an hour and a half to brew a pot of coffee. Vinegar totally rocks!

Off I go, to brew a real pot of coffee…armed with a new bit of knowledge, and a drain full of green goo.

Yep…still running on fumes here. Éamon is better, but still waking up quite a bit at night. I don’t mind that he’s in bed with me for the most part, but it does make for little sleep. Last night, however, was worse than the others.

Éamon had been asleep on the couch because he had woken up in his crib coughing and gasping as usual (although not nearly as bad). Terrence took him out, and put him next to me on the couch, just so we could keep an eye on him. He feel right back to sleep…the poor guy was so tired. By the time we hit 9:30pm, I just couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore, so the older 3 kids said they’d take care of him and I went to bed. By 9:30…must be a new record for me.

Anyway (trying to pry the thoughts out of my cotton-filled head this morning…please bear with me), by around 11, the kids were getting ready to go to bed, and put Éamon back into his crib, when he woke up again, coughing. Christopher picked him up, and Éamon proceeded to puke all over him. You know, when you have tons of ick in your lungs and you gag and sometimes throw up when you cough too much? That’s what happened. They both were cleaned up, and Éamon was promptly brought in to sleep with me. Not a problem…despite his liking to sleep sideways, his being there isn’t really a big deal. But when you combine him with Séamus, then you have a problem.

About an hour after Éamon was put into my bed, Séamus started to cough and hack, and invariably cry in his bed. Joseph, who is also not feeling well….good grief, will we ever get better??…was trying diligently to help him, but Séamus was not to be consoled. Needless to say, he also came into my bed to sleep. It was about this time that Mr Izz decided that he was not going to sleep in the bed, and went off to sleep on the couch. Since he was gone, I put a child on each side of me, and prayed that we’d all get right to sleep and sleep for a few hours at least.

Séamus slept fine; Éamon coughed quite a bit…but that wasn’t the problem. You see, both boys tend to sleep “all over the place” which meant that I needed to become a contortionist very quickly in order to find a comfortable position to sleep in. But this talent isn’t easy to acquire, as I discovered while trying to arrange myself in between Séamus’ feet in my stomach, and Éamon’s head in my back…then Éamon’s feet in my face, and Séamus practically laying on top of me. Ay yi yi…..what a night. Of course, Mr Izz missed it. But I had my revenge because he was cold all night. HA!

Now you can see why this is a continuation. I’m really hoping that we’ll hit the finale soon…I’m not sure how much more sleeplessness I can endure. I’m getting a bit giddy and silly today (far better than my fire-breathing act of yesterday)…next thing you know I’ll be hearing voices and hallucinating. It’s a good thing that Mr Izz’s clinical rotation is the Psychiatric ward…he’ll be all set to deal with me.

Enough for now. I do have things to do rather than sit on the computer typing all day, despite the fact it’s really all I think I have the desire to do. Well, I could make another pot of coffee…and wait for about a million years to have it be done. But at least I’ll have the promise of another dose of caffeine sometime in the nearish future.

I’m totally incoherent, exhausted, and cranky. Poor Éamon didn’t sleep for more than 15 minutes at a stretch last night, so things here are a bit crazy. The kids are fighting in the kitchen and being totally horrible…..I think I need that vacation to Tahiti right about now. The only thing I have to look forward to is that magical sound that is emitted from the coffee pot when it’s finally done…you know, the one where it’s trying to get the last bit of water to run through, but there is no more, so it’s just steam? Problem is that my coffee pot is broken, so it’s going to take at least 6 million years to be done. I may keel over by that time.

What this stems from is poor Éamon and his cold/cough thing. Without getting totally into detail, the trip to the ER over the weekend confirmed that he does have a touch of pneumonia, which is why he’s having a hard time breathing during his coughing fits. This is a doozy of a cough too. Christopher has had it for 2 weeks now, and it doesn’t seem to want to quit. I was more concerned with the 2 that have asthma, so it didn’t occur to me that Éamon was getting worse (I know, bad mommy), until I woke up to him gasping to get a breath. He’s slept with me ever since, and this was on Saturday. The poor little guy. The funny thing is that while he’s sick, you wouldn’t know it. He still runs around like a crazy boy all day long (this in a good way) and he’s still as good natured as ever. This on no sleep at all for 4 nights. Me, on the other hand, would breathe fire if I could…the kids are making sure I have a wide berth as I walk by, and if I call them,you can see them jump like I’m about to shove them into the laundry basket because they blinked too loudly or something….hey, you know, that might be a good idea.

So this is why I am waiting. I’m waiting for the water to finally get heated up and finish dripping out of the basket which holds the magic beans (freshly ground of course), and finally settle into the pot at the bottom, somehow turned into that magical beverage that will wake me up. Yes, I am addicted to caffeine. Get over it. I have. But my coffee pot seems to have a mind of it’s own, and likes to torture me with it’s endless brew cycle, and confuse me with it’s way too early “Coffee’s Done!” beep (it beeps after it’s been brewing for like 2 minutes)…sometimes the gurgles that are emitted really do sound like maniacal laughter, for I’m certain that my coffee pot knows the desperate state I am in, and it’s laughing evilly at me because it also knows that my desperation means that it’s in charge. I’m almost certain this is the case….I’m actually totally certain, but I’m thinking that might make me look a wee bit daft, so I’ll keep it at almost. I really think I need a French Press…

Oh! Wait! I think the coffee is done! Give me a second…..ahhhh….freshly brewed coffee. Maybe now I can keep my fire-breathing behaviour to myself, and actually behave a bit more like a human. Maybe the kids won’t jump into action and get stuff done in record time since my mood will be much more improved….wait…ixnay on that one. There’s a lot to be done today. I think I can keep up the dragon imitation just long enough to get the living room vacuumed. But for now, I am going to savour each and every drop of this cup of coffee. The kids will be pleased to know that, I’m sure.