I think spring is finally springing. I am happy to see the sun, but I am going to miss wood stove weather. Watching the flames is so soothing and comforting. Needless to say, I will be sitting in my chair in front of the fire every spare second I can find until it gets too warm to have one going.
And yes, there is such a thing is too warm for a fire in the wood stove. Fun fact: I learned that the hard way.
I decided one day in August last year to burn some cardboard instead of taking it to the recycle bins in town. I used my kitchen blow torch (ya…. I’m just as surprised as you are that Scott let’s me have one) and lit that shit up!
Only problem was, is that when it is hotter outside than inside in your house and you start a fire…. science happens? And the smoke doesn’t go up and out the chimney. Instead the smoke builds up inside the wood stove like some sort of weird vacuum and eventually the black smoke seeps through the seams of the wood stove and into your living room.
But is it really surprising to anyone that I have smoked me and the animals out of the house more than once? No… no it’s not. I inherited my ability to royally fuck up my day from my dad. It is a blessing and a curse. You will always be laughing in our house, but you might also lose your eyebrows.
My dad is a coffee addict. To the point where he will get the DTs from caffeine withdrawal if he doesn’t get his pot and a half a day (and this is an improvement from his previous 2-3 pots per day at one point in my childhood).
It was around the time he decided to cut back that we got our first single cup brewer. A tassimo. Remember those? I think they still sell them…. Keurig‘s competitor. But it didn’t last too long.
I remember coming downstairs one morning and found my dad, holding handfuls of paper towels up to the spout where the coffee comes out of the tassimo and towels scattered around the floor. Coffee was everywhere. On the ceiling. Puddled on the floor. Everywhere.
Me: What the fuck?
Dad: Keep your voice down! Your mother can’t know. Get a bowl. Get a bowl!
I grabbed a cereal bowl and shoved it under the spout to catch the coffee still pouring out.
Me: How? Whaa… what happened?
Dad: This mother fucker has had it out for me since day one.
Me: The coffee maker?
Dad: This piece of crap just shit out coffee everywhere. I put the stupid disc in, went to the bathroom and heard a sound. Come back out and this fucker is pissing coffee in every direction. How did it get on the ceiling Kay?! There’s no god damn hole pointing in that direction!
Me: Why isn’t it stopping? How much water does it hold? I’ll get another bowl. Dad: Diiiiiiiiirty WHORE!
I turned to head back to the cupboard to find my brother, Andrew, and mom looking in disbelief at the pair of us, covered in coffee. After shaking his head, Andrew came over and unplugged the machine.
After the clean up was complete and the tassimo was in the garbage, we went out and bought a keurig. Dad then received a thorough orientation to the new machine.
I’d like to say that was the last time he brawled with a coffee maker. But it wasn’t.
A couple months later, dad informed me that the keurig was in cahoots with the old tassimo and someone was going to get hurt.
When I asked what he meant by that, he explained that the keurig was “making the same knocking and banging” as its predecessor. But it only happened when dad used it and no one else was around.
“Riiiiiiiight,” I said and continued to make my coffee without incident.
A few weeks later I was in the kitchen making breakfast when dad came in and headed to make his fourth cup of the day.
All of a sudden I heard a knocking sound, that quickly evolved into a violent vibration.
Dad: IT’S HAPPENING!
Me: Well shit. And I thought we were going to have to put you in a home.
Dad: No one would listen! But-
Hot coffee began spraying out the seams of the keurig. In every direction.
Dad: DIIIIIIRTY BASTARD!
Me: What did you do?
Dad: Nothing! I… I…. This is the problem with computers. The machines are trying to kill us!
I flung a dish towel over the machine and we both backed away in disbelief.
Me: You might have a point.
I can’t make this shit up people. Welcome to the Obsessive family. Stay at your own risk.
PS: I’d like to say this was the last time this happened. But I was informed at dinner earlier this week that the newest coffee maker has begun acting out like a sulky teenager with a bad temper. You wouldn’t believe how many keurigs he’s been through even if I told you.
PPS: Six ….. He’s had six.