Agnes

I have this habit of naming inanimate objects. My purse, my blanket, and now, my coffee maker. Her name is Agnes. And she is broken. And I will miss her for a whole week while she is being fixed. And I will be very cranky because of her absence in my life.

Agnes was a big splurge (so much so that I'm embarrassed to share how much we spent on her). She has, however, been worth every penny. I LOVE her. She makes a quick pre-hockey espresso for Paul, and a delightful foamy triple latte for me every morning. And sometimes in the afternoon too. And an Americano when necessary (some days are like that).

On to her name. Paul's Tante Agnes (who was an aunt, not by blood, but was always present at family gatherings) left some money behind after her death, which, through the generosity of another dear aunt, found its way to us. This gift of money was all my Paul needed to convince himself that the time had come to buy this machine he had been pining for. And so, this lovely machine, wrapped in stainless steel with a slick display screen, came into our home. We named her Agnes, and she makes us very, very happy.

Hope you're feeling better soon, Agnes. I'll try my best to make do without you for a while.