Copper Coffee Pot or the Day I fell in Love with New York

I’m back in New York after spending a week back in Wisconsin with my family. It was an interesting week because Cancer, with a capital C, was all around me (phone calls, flowers, cards, “visits”, appointments) and yet cancer, personal and scary, was kept at arms length. I focused on meal plans and recipes and my mom was still brilliantly my mom. Not sure if that makes any sense but that’s all I can say about it for the moment.

So, this past Saturday was my first day back in the city and I needed to run a few errands. I’ve been waging a war with my coffee maker and the impetuous machine won in a hot-water-and-grinds spewing flurry. I was on my way to K-mart and stumbled upon a street fair on 10th, with antiques, vintage clothing, and jewelry. A jazz band was playing, the sun was out, the scene was damn near perfect. I found a little copper coffee pot and four copper cups for $15. It looked perfect for camping, a very well-outfitted excursion. But alas, I forced myself to leave the romantic little set behind because of my complete lack of income at the moment. I meandered down the rest of the street, enjoying the eccentrics and fashionistas and peddlers doing the same.

On my return trip from K-mart, with new coffee maker in tow, I decided to play a little game. If the coffee set was still there, then it was destined to be mine and I’d shell out the $15. I walked down the street feeling quite sure that someone would have snapped it up, being that it was in excellent condition. But as I approached the stand I realized that it was still there, still looking charmingly pioneering. I inquired with the stand’s two tenders and they both seemed rather in love with the set too. They packaged it up for me with the greatest of care and appreciation, and I went on my way feeling like I had stumbled upon the greatest treasure.