A cane, a popcorn machine and a compost heap

I realized yesterday, after working for at least four hours on a political profile for Armchair Lehigh Valley on the upcoming Easton (Pa.) City Council race, that I currently spend about ten hours a week on political journalism for that publication, about ten hours a week teaching college and another twenty hours working my evening fast food job.

That’s 40 hours a week, before we consider the 30-plus hours a week I devote to my book publishing business, Parisian Phoenix (parisianphoenix.com). I thought I had everything perfectly balanced– but toward the end of the week, my sleep was starting to suffer.

And last night I fell. Not once, but twice. And not at home. Or even on the street. But at my fast food job. Both of the falls were trips. Both were quickly forgotten.

But when I got home, and when I woke up this morning, my body was struggling. And when I caught my right foot “catching” on my left ankle and almost causing a fall on the way to the restroom, I went and got my cane out of the car.

(And because I often have a lot of 21-year-olds in my house– Eva, her romantic interest, and one of her friends from high school staying with us– they thought my snake head cane was badass. They also encouraged me to change my outfit to match it as I am currently in sweatpants.)

After finishing my lesson planning for my class at Northampton Community College this week, I started the new Superman movie as I am a Superman fan. Since the movie includes Krypto the Superdog as a significant character, I restarted the movie an hour in so I could watch it with Eva.

When Eva left for work, I cleaned the cupboards and collected all the open and stale food items that were more than a couple weeks old. I also admitted what items I would never eat and I took these out to the compost heap. A lot of crackers including a box of Triscuit thins I treated myself to and forgot about.

This is really hard for me. I have experienced food insecurity and have gone mildly hungry, so I have a tendency to not waste food to an excessive degree.

I used to garden when Eva was little, and our neighborhood has terrible clay soil so I keep a compost heap under my porch. And believe-it-or-not, the regular digging and turning of the heap provides a great deal of emotional relief for me. Resuming care of the compost heap has given me some renewed vibrancy. And a lot of mosquito bites.

And if you haven’t cared for your own soil, it’s amazing to see the soil change and grow richer.

In addition to the maintenance of the compost, I also cleaned my popcorn machine. I’m hoping maybe the 21-year-olds might want to have a movie night with popcorn sometime.

All those memories of pizza and popcorn from Target Café.

Coffee musings: Review of Folgers Black Silk

I love dark roast coffee.

My current favorites are Target’s Archer Farms Mosaica and Wegman’s whole bean espresso roast.

My neighbor prefers Starbucks PPR (Pike’s Peak Roast) to brew at home and I enjoy it when I have my amazing coffee mornings with her, but I don’t believe it is worth the money. But I also don’t begrudge anyone their favorite coffee— I prefer to get my Mosaica when it is on sale or on the Target Circle app, and if that is not available I go to Wegman’s as it is normally $4.99 for the bag. I don’t recall the exact ounces of the bag, but it is the small bag that typically lasts me a month at one cup of coffee a day.

But recently Target had ridiculously low prices on my allergy medicine so I decided to see if my coffee was on sale.

It was not.

So I did what I do— I stared at coffee options and price points for 20 minutes deliberating.

I purchased a massive plastic bin of Folgers Black Silk, their dark roast, for $5.99. Today I opened it.

Perhaps I bought this for the bucket and it came with free coffee inside…

Now, a few basic facts before we continue:

  1. I hate Folgers coffee. This whole experiment rests on the idea that I can remain objective.
  2. I love the buckets Folgers coffee comes in. Household tip: save it. I keep one by the sink for a composting bucket. The lid is easy to open but as the company promises, keeps the freshness (or in this case rottenness). Also a handy small cleaning bucket as the container has a handle. So if you need a small bucket of hot soapy water to carry around the house, this is a great bucket. AND it goes into the dishwasher for easy cleaning. Perhaps I bought this for the bucket and it came with free coffee inside.
  3. I do not brew my coffee in a standard coffee pot or even a snobby French press. I used to make the perfect cup of coffee grinding my Wegman’s beans and putting them in my French press but I have forgotten how.
  4. My husband got the coffee pot in our break-up, and that was by necessity, as he and the coffee pot had an intense relationship whereas I have videos proving that the teenager, at the tender age of four, had to teach me how to use it.
  5. Instead, I consume my caffeine via the espresso machine. My first real boss— my first white collar, grown up job—gave me a $50 Boscov’s gift card when I got married. At the time, I thought that was ridiculously extravagant of him. I did not start drinking coffee regularly until after the teenager was born. To do justice to the generous gift from my boss, who was a coffee drinker, I purchased a tiny espresso machine (with steamer) and coffee grinder. I thought I had arrived in the world. I use this to make my coffee. Yes, I am putting commercial Folgers into my espresso machine.
  6. I do not sweeten my coffee. I use real half and half to lighten it, and *spoiler alert* this coffee did require extra half and half to make it the color I prefer.
  7. Finally, a note on my coffee preferences. I prefer Dunkin to Starbucks, on the taste of the coffee alone. I find Starbucks bitter. Not intolerably bitter but bitter.

And yes— that is a Pyrex measuring cup. The carafe broke. What do you want from an espresso machine more than 20 years old?

And now finally the tasting…

It’s more akin to Starbucks PPR than the coffees I prefer. Bitter, but after the first few sips, the bitterness is forgotten.

I must ask my neighbor to use some the next time we have coffee together. Meanwhile, for the price, this economical option will tide me over until I regain my financial footing and start making money in my “side gigs” or attain a job.

My compost heap makes me happy

When my teen daughter still attended elementary school, I liked to garden. I have a small yard in an urban setting but it was enough to hold some herbs & a few vegetables.

I noticed quickly that my soil was mostly clay. To rectify this, I started composting.

I turned the area under my deck into my pile of decomposing refuse. I took a plastic coffee can with a lid and collected the compostables from our kitchen.

Now that plastic bucket gets stinky. But nothing a session with the hose can’t rectify.

The soil that this makes is so rich and dark.

It’s satisfying.

But it’s the “turning” that makes me happy. That’s when you periodically dig holes and bury your freshest fruit-and-vegetable bits to the bottom of the pile.

I have my own shovel and I love to dig and rearrange and mix all the different stages of compost.

It makes me happy.