Attack of the Killer Lasagne

Thinking about my broken coffee press reminded me of the last time I broke one of my dishes, a few years ago. And it was a rather spectacular event too; not one I'd like to repeat. It all began one Sunday afternoon when I decided to make a pan of lasagne...

In Memoriam

2005 - 2010

Today I mourn the passing of my coffee press. It seems that when I washed my dishes last night I wasn't careful enough when I put it or other dishes in the sink. When I grabbed it out of the sink to wash it I found a nice big crack down half of it that wasn't there before. Even though I rarely fill it past the half-way mark anyway as I usually only make enough for one mug (if I want more a few hours later I'm better off making it fresh), I suspect the heat would still make it worse, or perhaps even cause it to shatter.

Oh well. It had a full life. It was a birthday gift, from shortly after my brother got married and moved out, taking the coffee maker with him (for some reason he decided he'd rather live with his wife than me—what a jerk!). That would place it at 5 years old. I guess I won't be able to make myself any coffee for a bit, but at least until I get a replacement I can make do with espresso instead. I don't think that will be tough.

Services will be held this Friday evening at 7 PM at the dumpster outside my building.