Last evening—television’s political cavalcade of election results!!—Seth and I thought it would be great fun to break out the snack tables and order take-out so we could sit side by side, eating from plastic containers, while George Stephanopoulos (and his hair, which I am told, draws its’ own salary from ABC news) did his grim little thing all night. Unfortunately, I didn’t last very long before falling deeply asleep. I awoke a few hours later to a silent room, bedecked with a few snoring cats and stumbled up to bed where I dreamt that Dan Quayle was installing new counters in my kitchen.  When I got up this morning  and faced the frost on the grass-- viewed from the cozy side of a chilled window pane--I simply could not get myself going. Despite the politically charged circumstances of the previous evening, I was very sleepy in the light of day.

Then, I remembered—there is coffee in this world! I always forget that fact if I am home alone. Sluggish and resentful, I start my mornings dragging about, wondering how I will ever find the energy to refill the cats water dish. If it’s during the week and Seth is already at work, I just push ahead, determined not to follow my instincts and fall back into bed. On the weekend, however, magic happens….

I wake, after my husband has been up for about an hour, to find that something wonderfully aromatic awaits me in a glass carafe in the kitchen. I mumble something furry and green to Seth and he hands me a cup of this lovely stuff upon which I warm my hands and then take a sip…mmm.  A few minutes later, I am again able to pronounce words correctly, perform simple tasks and recognize family members.

Coffee has a checkered and fluctuating health record. Every few years the experts change their minds about whether it’s going to kill us or if it’s actually beneficial for our health. Currently, it’s back in good standing  with the community of researchers who determine such things and who, no doubt, swill gallons of coffee while they perform calculations and pore over data. Thank goodness, because I plan on getting addicted to it.

I brewed some for myself this morning and--already on my second cup-- will now, with a clear head, go see whether Dan Quayle might really have been here in the night.  I certainly hope so because we really need new counters.