April 16, 2020. Madison, Mississippi. Coffee.

Easter, 2015. Our new house was in chaos. Our belonging from the condo arrived in the morning. One hour later the stuff from the farm and in storage arrived one hour later. The movers from the farm unpacked all the paintings and piled them in the middle of the living room. We had boxes everywhere. Wendy arrived from Toronto in the middle of the evening. After she hung up her coat she started opening boxes, beginning with the kitchen boxes. As she opened, she put things away. I sat on a chair close to the kitchen so I could answer her questions. Starting about 10:00, Wendy asked if we had coffee in the kitchen boxes. I assured her we did. I suggested she start with the pantry boxes, which she did. At first, when Wendy opened a new box she put the objects away but as time passed, she started just opening the boxes and rooting through them looking for the coffee pots and the coffee. Both Ken and I had no anxiety because we both knew we had both coffee and pots but Wendy had no faith, especially as more and more boxes came up empty of coffee. Ken and I laughed. But not Wendy. She was anxious. Finally she found the pots which was a happy sight. But the boxes were getting fewer and fewer and still no coffee. At least we had the pots set up. Finally, in the last box marked pantry, Wendy found the coffee. She found the ground coffee for the drip pot and the packages for the one cup machine. Wendy was happy. And finally we all three laughed together.