I am in Iowa City. I'm staying at my aunt and uncle's house and it is freezing. They heat with wood. Like people who don't have forced heat. But they do have forced heat. They just don't use it. Last night I was telling my uncle about a friend my husband and I stayed with in England who ground her own coffee. Like, literally. She had this metal canister with a crank on top and she ground her coffee by turning the crank by hand.
"This will just take twenty-five minutes," she told us the first morning we sat waiting (after a transcontinental flight, still wearing our British Airways socks), mugs in hands.
I waited for the punch line. "You're kidding," I said.
"It's delicious," she said. "Far better than electric ground coffee."
Really? It is THAT much better? (I am one of those people who need coffee in the morning. Right now.)
She cranked away happily. "It's very peaceful," she said. "Meditative."
I wanted to murder her. Like actually cause blood to come out of ...