Simple joys

I’m paraphrasing, but there’s a bit in My Dinner with Andre where Wallace Shawn talks about the appreciation he finds in life’s simple things. In particular, he talks — more or less — about waking up in the morning and knowing there is a cold cup of coffee from the day before waiting for him in the kitchen, and about how much he looks forward to that cold cup of coffee.

I know how he feels. Indeed, I have taken to making extra coffee in the morning, so that there will be leftover coffee the next day. I don’t have Wally Shawn’s fortitude; the thought of cold coffee first thing in the morning, especially a chilly winter’s morning, is more than I can bear. But a good cup of reheated leftover coffee, dropped into a saucepan and brought up to a boil and drunk strong, hot, bitter and black? There are few things better. Sometimes I finish it, and make a fresh pot for The Lovely Wife. Other times, I share it out, so we both have something to drink, but I don’t have to bother with the mechanics making coffee. Some days, such simple tasks elude my early morning capacity to accomplish basic tasks.

This came powerfully to mind this morning when I dragged myself out of bed at 5:00 a.m. to attend to the first of what I assume will be three or four rounds of shoveling related to DoomStorm 2007. The storm didn’t drop as much snow as anticipated overnight, but I always like to get a head start on it, so that if work and school are on, I don’t have to rush the rest of my morning. As I finished the shoveling, that leftover coffee was powefully on my mind; when I came in, I made a beeline straight for the saucepan.

Looking at the snow blowing outside my window as I write this, and thinking ahead to the next time I go out to shovel, I’m glad I made a fresh pot this morning, so I’ll have something waiting for me when I come in from the cold.