Return of the crema
Never underestimate the karma of a good repairman. After a couple of weeks of deprivation (yes, caffeine is a drug; a good one), my coffeemachine is back with a refill of crema. Somewhere along the road, the mechanics of “insert and turn to the right” became “insert and turn to the right as far as your arm strength will permit”. Like all things that have been crafted by workers who don’t have the never break again spirit of the blacksmith, some tiny piece didn’t resist. And we all know the path of least resistance, don’t we?
Which leads us to that little “fireside chat” from the current prime minister, this evening. Obviously he has never studied the Eastern way (and I don’t mean the one from St. John’s). He will not bend before resistance; he will not bend. Instead, we will continue to watch this newest form of political arm wrestling. Something will break, but you’ll have to wait until after the break to see the result of our combat.
There’s pressure around here for a potlatch. We’ve accumulated too much stuff. I live by the axiom that there is stuff and junk; junk is the stuff we throw away and stuff is the junk we keep. To-may-to, to-mah-to. Perhaps someone has an urge to replace all that stuff, but we’re entering difficult economic times (so say the pundits). Even though there are any number of merchants that will be willing to help with the renewal phase, the purge has to come from me. And I am philosophically opposed.
