When It Coffees, It Pours . . .

Stumbling out of bed, I began my morning routine, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.

Dell expectantly followed me and watched, as I meandered to the kitchen, emptied the grounds basket, filled the basket with fresh coffee and filter, filled the water reservoir, returned down the hall to slip on a pair of jogging pants, hunted for the brown flip flops, then the leash . . .

His anticipation heightened, but mingled with self-control.

At the gate, I stooped over to halti him, swaying in a lack of balance sort of way, still caused by the sleepiness that fogged me first thing in the morning.

Once outside, the dew on the grass, the scent of the beginning stages of fall evident about me, I perked up a bit. My heart began to awake, my thoughts following.

"What a beautiful morning! Good Morning, Lord!" As I directed my thoughts upward, and paused, listening for that still small voice, Dell indicated he'd had enough of taking in the tracks of canine passers-by. We headed back to the house.

I could hear the brew in its' final stages. Mmmmmmm ~ but a cup of coffee was going to taste good this morning!

Coffee, my Bible, a snug little corner on the couch . . .near perfection, in my mind's eye.

I slipped off my flops, un-halti-ed the dog, and turned the corner to the awaiting coffee pot, which sat pristine and glistening on the counter.

Empty.

While the machine itself chirpily produced a full pot of java ~ down the side of the counter, onto the floor.

Drat!