Coffee for Me

Coffee

I began drinking coffee as an undergraduate student at Cal-State Los Angeles. In those days it was a State College rather than a State University. I liked being able to schedule my classes for just two or three days a week, but that meant long days. It was “institutional” coffee that was served in the “Top of the North” cafeteria or in the Student Union, and I had to drink it with too much cream and sugar.

After graduating in December of 1971, I did my student teaching and had a concurrent internship. That meant I taught a 60% load and got paid at a 40% rate at Oak Avenue Intermediate School in Temple City, California and spent the next forty years teaching in Orange and Villa Park, California.

Forty plus years drinking teachers’ room coffee–sometimes so thick I’d cut it with a knife and drink it with a fork.

For my first several years at Yorba JHS in Orange I had breakfast most mornings at Poncho’s on Tustin Avenue. I became such a regular that as I walked into the restaurant one of the waitresses would put my cup of coffee on my “usual” table or spot at the counter. She’d keep it full until I was ready to leave. Rich always had my breakfast ready at five to seven–good coffee and strong enough to get me ready for a day full of teenagers.

One morning a new waitress complained to Rich that no one had ordered the meal he had just put up for her. He said it was mine. She looked in my direction and I confirmed it. Yum, chili and cheese omelet, hash browns and sourdough toast. Of course, that was back in the days when I ran six or more miles per day and could eat like that.

At home I had a variety of drip coffee makers over the years and usually brewed Yuban coffee. In those years when my classroom(s) was too far from the teachers’ lounge/office to get coffee between classes I’d bring a large thermos and drink from it most of the day.

I couldn’t drink coffee late in the day or I had trouble getting to sleep. This even happened with decaf. I guess my mind/body just thought coffee = caffeine stay awake and do something.

For the last ten years or so I’ve used a Cuisinart coffee maker that has an internal grinder so I could have fresh ground coffee in the morning–it made good coffee–but the grinder was difficult to clean and became more trouble than it was worth. It was easier to use my small electric grinder rather than the one in the coffee maker.

In Retirement

Most of the time since I retired in 2012 I’d drink most of a carafe and, as thrifty (cheap) as I am, I’d microwave the rest the next day. More? I’d use my wife’s electric teakettle to heat some water and make instant coffee. The same if I wanted decaf in the evening, my body having adapted to caffeine, or lack thereof, in retirement.

But, instant coffee isn’t really coffee or, at least, doesn’t taste like it is.

A buddy of mine solved a like problem with the purchase of a K-cup machine.

Hmmmm . . . too expensive (remember I’m thrifty). I didn’t like the idea of more trash (K-cups), and I still have a good coffee maker.

Decided to look for a machine which would brew both a regular pot of coffee and single cups.

Shopping

Well, I found a Cuisinart that would do the job–for two hundred dollars–ouch! I also found a Hamilton Beach for eighty dollars that would brew a pot, a K-cup single and came with a K-cup sized filter for using my own ground coffee. But, remember I’m thrifty; I sat on the idea for several weeks.

Last week I shopped for the Hamilton Beach on Amazon and found it for $79

I found the same model at Target for $89. However, if I ordered it online from Target the price was $79 and another 5% off with my Red Card. So, I bought it online and picked it up at our local target.

Washed everything out last night and brewed a pot this morning — mmmmmm, delicious coffee. This evening I’ll try the single serving side with some decaf and see the result.

PS: Had a whisky instead of decaf. Sunday morning I had one cup remaining in the carafe and zapped that in the microwave to drink while I read part of the morning paper. Read the rest of the paper while sitting on the exercise bike and then fixed Charlie’s breakfast and another cup of tea.

Rather than make a full pot of coffee I decided to try the single (K-cup) side of the coffee maker. Filled my coffee cup with water, poured it into the single-cup reservoir and inserted a Trader Joe’s Medium Roast K-cup. A few minutes later I had my second cup of coffee — ahhhhhh . . .

Note: Currently, I’m drinking a blend of Trader Joe’s Medium Roast and their Kenya AA.

Another Note: Right after I graduated from CSCLA the name was chanced to CSULA (University). I was sent a letter offering a new diploma with the “University” name for a one-time payment of $50. Think I got one? Remember, I’m thrifty; No Way, Jose!


At my feet
At my feet

Plumbing Problems — Grrrrr . . .

Yesterday afternoon I was starting to wash a few dishes when I felt water dripping on my feet. I turned off the water and looked around and saw that I had spilled nothing on the sink area — backed up and looked to see water pouring from the cabinet doors under the sink.

Yipes!

Opened the doors and water came pouring out. Got a towel from the bathroom to mop up the water and prevent it from spreading out all over the kitchen and got a flashlight.

Hmmmmm . . . nothing dripping and none of the fittings was wet.

Turned the water back on — just a little bit. Water began to drip from the drain pipe going into the back wall of the cabinet . . .

Bent down to get a good look at the problem and felt around. There was a hole in the bottom of the pipe. Pressed around the hole  . . . and it enlarged as the area was paper-thin.

This was not a small problem — like the under-sink problem last summer in Corfu.

Called Phill (http://www.phillsplumbing.com/) and actually got him and not an answering machine or voicemail. I described the problem and, as he was in the middle of another job, he asked if the problem could wait until the morning. Of course, I just couldn’t wash dishes for a while — darn. Said he’d call me in the morning about 7:30 am on his way over.

At 7:30 am Joe, from Phill’s Plumbing, rang the doorbell — clean shirt, clean pants, putting booties on his shoes — and said Phill was working on the other job. Showed him the problem and a toilet that would not shut off (had closed the valve most of the way so there would be little water leakage — hadn’t seemed a big enough problem to get the plumber for until I needed him for something else).

Joe’s estimate came in at $236.75 if he could get in and replace the pipe under the sink, i.e., if the pipe was solid enough to get out and replace without having to open the wall — couldn’t tell until he tried.

Meanwhile, I’d gotten Charlie up: into her sunroom with tea, meds, vitamins and raisin toast for breakfast. I finished my coffee and went to sit on the exercise bike — to read and watch the news on my iPad. Less than two hours later, Joe was done with both the kitchen and toilet — everything cleaned up nice and neat.

The new plumbing seems to work properly — wrote a check for $236.75 and Joe went on to another job — installing a custom-made shower.

Note: I found Phill several years ago on Angies List and he’s been over for several different problems (our house was built back in the 60s) including the installation of a new waterheater. I also prefer to deal with small, locally-owned companies where possible. Both our sunroom and Heating/AC system were put in by family-owned OC businesses and we dealt directly with the owners.

Reading Retired

One of the nice things about being retired is that I usually have quite a bit of time to read: newspapers and books, primarily.

Unfortunately, my favorite authors seldom write more than a book or two every year or two (or three or four). This means I re-read a number of books every year as well as find new authors to read. It also means that I sometimes am “inundated” with several new books at about the same time — publishers do not go over their schedules with me before releasing their books.

I received my copy of Peter F. Hamilton’s new Commonwealth novel — A Night Without Stars — last Tuesday and dove right in. By Friday I was on page 264 and Ian W. Toll’s The Conquering Tide (in paperback) arrived. The Conquering Tide is the second in Toll’s trilogy of the Pacific war. At 542 pages, not counting Notes and Index, it was a good quick read. Yes, I finished it today while sitting on our exercise bike and watching parts of Day of the Jackal on the room’s Apple TV.

By the way, I give The Conquering Tide 5 Stars.

Now I can resume reading A Night Without Stars and Spoor’s Spheres of Influence. And tomorrow my copy of Flint’s Castaway Odyssey should arrive — even though I saw it already on the shelves of HB’s B&N last Saturday.

Next week Modesitt’s Treachery’s Tools should also be delivered to my front door. I have several other books on order that should be arriving in the next month and a half . . . ahhhhhhh. Now, if I could just get an advance copy of The Gathering Edge before Christmas . . .cats and reading

Reading Humor

On a side note — p. 433 of The Conquering Tide:

Many who worked with Nimitz later recalled his shrewd use of the well-applied joke. While winding down a testy planning session in the spring of 1944, the admiral said he was reminded of history’s “first amphibious operation,” conducted by Noah. “When they were unloading from the Ark, he saw a pair of cats come out followed by six kittens. ‘What’s this?’ he asked. ‘Ha, ha,’ said the tabby cat, ‘and all the time you thought we were fighting.'”


Oh yeah, I went to our new Senior Center last Friday to get my annual flu shot and made the “mistake” of stopping at the library and getting a new card. Found a copy of Sue Grafton’s X. Now I just have to find time to read it. Hmmmmm . . . such a problem.

The Trip — 2016: Part 29 — Arriving Home

Once again our plane is a Boeing 777-300, very comfortable and smooth. We took off about three-thirty — a delay of about an hour and a half with arrival in LA scheduled to be about 6:10 pm.

I got a copy of the Wall Street Journal and The London Times and read through the taxiing and takeoff until it was time to eat. Well, at least, until it was time for a Jack Daniels or three.

The meal consisted of:

Starter — Prosciutto and Mozzarella with melon

Salad — Spinach and frisée with strawberries and blue cheese and yogurt dressing

Entrée — Seared white halibut with beurre blanc sauce, champagne risotto and grilled asparagus

Dessert — Gourmet cheese plate of red cheddar, blue cheese stick and Montero farmer white

It all tasted quite good. Filling but not stuffing.

Di watched movies on her video screen, and I worked on my Trip photos for most of our very smooth flight. Toward its end we were served another light meal, salad and sandwich and dessert. I also drank several glasses of ice water — no more Jack.

Touchdown at LAX was 6:20 pm. We waited until everyone else had deplaned before leaving. The scooter, despite the best efforts of the crew was not delivered to the plane’s door but a wheelchair was there and the scooter was waiting when we exited the boarding tunnel. A minute to put it together and we were off to Immigration and Baggage — it was, again, a v-e-r-y l-o-n-g walk and a couple of lift rides, as Di’s scooter cannot negotiate stairs or escalators.

Note: The elevators/lifts in this section of LAX only have access to two floors: the floor you are on and the floor Immigration wants you on.

Immigration was extremely busy as several planes had recently landed, including the three hundred people from our flight. We were allowed to use either the automated processing or Special Assistance and after a glance at the long lines opted for Assistance. A few minutes later we were through passport control/immigration and headed to the Baggage area.

We were passed on the way to baggage by several young (18-22) men who had been on our flight and had exited at the opening of the plane’s doors. They had waited in lines long enough for us old slowpokes to catch up and pass them — chortle.

Our luggage carousel (3) was just beginning to unload baggage from an AA flight just in from Mexico and a few minutes later began to disgorge the baggage from our flight as well. Wonder of wonders, less than ten minutes later I had all four of our suitcases and onto our last check by Immigration.

I handed him our customs declaration, a quick glance and we were out. Up the tunnel and into a sea of faces and name cards from drivers — ah ha, the driver who had taken us to LAX in June was right there. I called to Charlie, who was ahead of me and the driver took my cart. The time was 7:40 pm — an hour and twenty minutes after touchdown and we were out.

Because of the crowds and construction, our driver had to park in a lot several minutes walk away from the Tom Bradley International Terminal — that walk and a smoke for Di had us in the car at 8:00 pm on the dot. There was still a good deal of traffic on surface streets and the 405 Freeway, but we pulled up at our driveway a minute before nine. Home.

I walked Charlie to the bench outside our front door and then helped the driver with the rest of our luggage. The house key was actually in the carry-on where I remembered leaving it and I soon had the door open, the alarm switched off and Charlie deposited in her garden room.

The cats said “Hello” and “Where the heck have you been?” I brought in the luggage, put the scooter in the garage, made Charlie a cup of tea (decaffeinated Earl Grey) and sat down exhausted. Time enough tomorrow (or Saturday) for emptying the suitcases. “Zzzzzzz . . . ”

(to be continued / concluded?)

The Trip — 2016: Part 28 — Leaving England

We checked out of The Swan at Streatley at nine-thirty this morning and rode to Heathrow with the same driver who took us to Newbury yesterday and arrived at Terminal 5 shortly before eleven. Our itinerary told us to go to Terminal 5; however, BA said that our flight (actually on American Airlines like our flight to London) was leaving from Terminal 3. We are currently waiting for a Special Assistance bus to take us to Terminal 3.

Trip - Di and luggage in the bus
Di and luggage in the bus

Well, at slightly after noon the assistance bus arrived. The driver lowered the ramp in the back and then stopped traffic so that Di could drive her scooter into the back of the bus. He then loaded the luggage and we were off. The trip to terminal 3 took about ten minutes, without any stops or hang-ups along the way. We were quickly unloaded and . . . Di needs a last smoke before going into the terminal.

The AA desks are to the right of our entry and there is no one in line ahead of us. We are quickly processed except for the scooter. After about ten minutes the clerk finally clears things dealing with Di’s scooter and up into the lift we go to go through Security.

Again, Di’s scooter gets us the short line, which really isn’t too much shorter than the long line. Five or fewer minutes later we are through Security and into the shops and headed for Lounge H — AA’s Admiral’s Lounge. It’s a small lounge but there is warm food and cold drinks. I have a bit of lunch and a drink. Di has a cup of tea and a couple of pieces of chocolate cake and some bread and butter.

Our flight appears to be delayed a bit, but I don’t know how long a delay.

Just checked at the entry to the lounge and it seems as though the two o’clock flight to LA is now the three-fifteen flight to LA and should start boarding from Gate 27 about two-thirty or in about thirty-five minutes.

Well, I went shopping. First I went to a couple of book/magazine type stores and tried to get a crossword puzzle book — but, they only have British style crossword puzzle books. And, second, I went to buy some whisky. That took me to World of Whiskies. I found some that the clerk told me were not exported to the US — maybe, maybe not, but they are not generally available in Britain. I bought two bottles of Auchentoshan which I had enjoyed at the Quod Restaurant in Oxford. I hope they’ll taste as good in the US.

Trip - View from the lounge
View from the lounge

Returning to the AA lounge at about two twenty-five, I found that our flight was already boarding at Gate 27 — Di didn’t know because the announcements did not reach the part of the lounge in which I had found seats.

Gathering our stuff together, we ventured out into the Heathrow pathways and slideways to Gate 27. Upon arrival we were given assistance and shunted, after passport checks, etc., to the front of the line into the aircraft. Di drove her scooter to the aircraft door, escorted past everyone else, of course, and put on board. I brought our hand-carry items to our seats — garnering some comments along the way about her riding and me having to carry both her and my carry-on luggage — and then went back to fold up the scooter so that it could be stowed in the cargo hold and brought to us at LAX without delay. (Of course, they wouldn’t let me off the plane to go some six feet and fold up the scooter until they got an OK from Security.)

After stowing our gear in the overheads Di had some OJ and I some champagne while we waited for everyone else to finish boarding and the flight to begin.

(To be continued)