A thorn in my paw removed. Trash turned to treasure. The bitter in my espresso now entirely sweet. And that last one's no metaphor. Nothing big has happened. I just had one of those ahas that sends the chattier of us to our blogs. I've been meeting some demanding deadlines the last couple of months, making choices like not opening this website and keeping my nose -and evidently one shiny penny- to the grindstone.
Flashback to: One morning, my coffee grinder threatens to bite the dust. It's not super fancy, but it grinds as fine as Turkish, and I depend on it for lattes at home. Suddenly, it makes the kind of noise people like to perform on Car Talk. I shake it more than a little and get it going again. And then I guess I never put two and two together, but my espresso has tasted off ever since. I thought it was the beans, but look what I found cleaning it out today: a penny nearly smoothed to feather height on one side. First thought: yuck. Second: Maybe I've been getting a daily dose of copper?
Now I'm imbuing this discovery with all kinds of unwarranted deeper meaning, asking what else I've been missing. What's returned me to the grind with a funny taste in my mouth, just slightly displeased but not enough to suss out the culprit? Is it lucky? A sign of more surprises? A silver sheen peeks through on this pretty penny.