I’d like to share just one more little memory of my trip to the High Sierra (See Aug. 21 entry, "Once upon a spider," below), then I’ll be back to normal (I think):
The waiter brings Lois and me our cups of coffee as we’re deciding what to order for breakfast.
The coffeepot on the hot plate is almost empty after filling our cups and the waiter returns with a full pot of black coffee to replace it. Not wanting to waste any coffee, he pours the dregs of the almost empty pot into the new, full pot. I nudge Lois and point with my head. She glances over and smiles back at me as the waiter disappears into the kitchen with the now completely empty pot.
Lois is smiling because she knows I have this theory about what I call, the eternal coffeepot.
I checked and this particular restaurant has been serving coffee since 1982. If a long line of parsimonious waiters over the years have always emptied that last little bit of coffee from the old pots into the fresh new pots of coffee that replace them on the hot plate, theoretically … there is some of the very first pot of coffee that the restaurant made when it first opened 24 years ago in every pot of coffee they make today.
I guess you could call it well-aged.