I have a french press pot, in which I make chai.

Note, it is a FRENCH press pot, not a freedom press pot, however amusing and open to satire that phrase might be. Get over it.

Note 2: Chai is Kenya tea. Actually, Chai is the swahili word for tea. And when I make chai, it means kenya tea with milk and sugar. The fact that Starbucks has hijacked this word to mean something else is not my problem, and I mostly choose to ignore it, but I just wanted to clarify.

Anyways, after a while using a french press pot, the screen tends to get grungy, and, since it is a fine wire mesh, it is very hard to clean it effectively.

Finally, I’ve figured out what to do. Burn it. Seems obvious in retrospect. Hold the mesh in a flame – preferably a hot blue flame, like that from a bunsen burner, a gas stove, or a lighter – and burn all the grunge off. Once the mesh gets red hot, that’s probably all the damage you can do. And, because of the composition of the mesh, you can usually hold the thing in your fingers while you’re doing this, as the mesh, for some reason, does not seem to conduct the head around much. Kinda cool, that.

Last night, I used the final match in a box to light a candle. This may seem insignificant to all but a tiny number of my readers.

Several years ago (I expect it was in 1990, but I’m not sure) a few of us went camping in the Smoky mountains, and then, later, in the forests in north Georgia. I’m actually not even certain if this was the same camping trip, or two trips. I think they were the same trip. Anyways, we bought a package of matchboxes. Rosebud brand. When we came back from that trip, we each had a box of these matches which was largely unused. Being the packrat that I am, I kept that box, and didn’t use any of the matches for many years. I found the box several months ago, and started using it. So this was the last match from that 13-year-old box of matches.

I suppose that this should be profoundly significant in some earth-shaking way. But, somehow, it’s just not. Which is a shame, really. I was almost hoping it would be. It’s sad how some things are just … meaningless. I’m open to deep philosophical interpretations.

Anyone?

I think it may have gotten all the way down to 55° last night., and I had the top down on Rocinante on the way to work this morning.

I began referring to my Jeep as Rocinante a while back. It is, I suppose, symbolic on a number of levels. I was, however, very pleased to learn that John Steinbeck also called his truck Rocinante.

It has been many years since I read Don Quixote, and I don’t think I ever made it through the second book. I’ve added it back to my list of books to read, and I believe I should also add Travels with Charlie to that list as well. I think that I can stick to my current reading list for another year, not buy any new books, and not add anything to the list, and still not quite get done. We’ll see.

It took me a while to find this, but here are some posters of the Picasso Don Quixote painting I like so much.