Armageddon and Decent Coffee

Among my excellent haul of gifts at Christmas was an Amazon voucher. Although in theory I despise them for their tax-dodging scumbaggery, I resolved to spend the loot wisely and it helped that my ever loving wife had given me a Kindle.

Ah, the Kindle. Wonderful invention, and the Amazon sale started on Christmas Day itself so early birds could start loading their Kindles with discount loveliness.

Amazon sell everything. Fob watches for a start. I now have something which can sit in my pocket (on a chain) without hoping it was on my wrist. I hate wristwatches because they get in the way when I play piano and have a short lifespan when I forget I’m wearing one and accidentally smash it on table edges and the like.

I also purchased four Simon Morden novels, and pre-ordered the next one. The Metrozone trilogy have long been a favourite, and now they’re on my Kindle. Also known as the Petrovitch novels, they are set for the most part in a post-Armageddon London with place names you will find familiar (or find on a map, if you don’t know London) and a well developed sense of present and technological advancement. It’s quite rude if you understand Russian (again, Russian-English dictionary or the Internet) but I can overlook some of that in the face of three ripping yarns. I can’t wait for the next one to appear on my Kindle on the day of release.

I suggest you look him up and buy. The shorter but engaging “Another War” was a further impulse purchase and I’m still thinking about how much I like it. There’s a pace to it I find refreshing and engaging.

Then we headed out to the shops post-Christmas and I saw it. The perfect thing for the man who wants for nothing. A stove top espresso maker. Vicky Beeching has been making noise about them recently, and with good reason.

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I went to have a quiet pint at the Black Country Arms tonight and there is an ASDA store over the road. They sell these things for a fiver. So I got home tonight after an ale or two, and loaded it up, placed it on the stove and let the magic begin. Wonderful brown coffee shlurped into the top of the machine, and in minutes I could pour myself a home brewed coffee to a strength I had chosen (randomly) and prepared by my own fair hand. This is so much more satisfying than putting hot water from a kettle in a mug with granules.

And the coffee is wonderful. I didn’t need milk or sugar. It’s beautiful. Naturally, I’m now on an immense caffeine high, but it’s worth it.

Twelve days into the new year I have decent coffee and some post-Armageddon literature to browse while I come off the caff kick. Hurrah!

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