Walking around the local antique/junk mall we spotted this coffee pot. Other than being in pristine condition it is exactly like the one my dad used to make my momma coffee (every morning until suddenly never again back in 1980). I am delighted with it. It may be the silliest of pleasures - watching the water percolate up through the glass stem. Very amusing, it's practically the only thing I enjoy seeing before that first cup.
Recently I have had the profound pleasure of reconnecting with a High School teacher whose kindnesses towards me changed my trajectory through life. Her actions amounted to a "reboot". I laugh now to recall my youthful audacity. I was a bit of a wild one ... back in the day, not now, never now, though I sometimes think I wear my ponytail a bit too tight ... hopefully age will wear well, will relax me a bit. She describes a current pic of me as Gorgeous, pensive, reflective pic of you DeAnn. It's the same pic used here on TRUENORTH. I'm always surprised by the words others use to describe me. And ... in the same vein, isn't it interesting to notice the words one may select to describe oneself. My daughter, Two, reminded me that some writer, maybe the EAT, PRAY, LOVE lady, suggested the exercise of selecting a "word" to describe "this time/place" in your life. I tried to think of a single word several years ago. It's not easy. I couldn't think of one back then, but seeing pensive, I think that's it (for now). It's not a word I employ often. I searched my memory for the meaning, the precise meaning of it ... "All pensive and alone I see thee sit and weep. Thy tread upon the stone, where ... " what? Something about ashes. I can't remember. It's funny to remember a snippet then the words just stop as though they fell off in to a well of forgetfulness. Gosh I love our magnificent brains! We remember the most random things when properly prompted (like seeing that coffee pot ... it recalls the stove, and the smell of my Daddy ... the stove, with the door to the oven open, open to radiate heat on to my brothers and I, wrapped in fluffy bath towels, awaiting pajamas with feet. My nice smelling dad would zip us into the PJs while Momma (presumably) tidied up the bathroom, then he'd carry us, sometimes all three at a time, out to the station wagon. Once everyone was loaded up off we'd go to the Drive In Movies for a ... did they call them doubleheaders? We'd see some Disney movie like Lady and the Tramp, followed by a Western (John Wayne seemed to be practically family). Yeah, all that from a clunky glass coffee pot. Pensive ... let's look it up (and the other).